Breathless
by ReneyyySprouse
Summary: It was supposed to be just another normal day. Another normal call, another normal case, and another normal argument. But never in a million years did Jake or Amy imagine the serious consequences that could come with being too stubborn to swallow your pride and just say sorry. Jake x Amy, Peraltiago
1. Part I

_**Breathless.  
**_ _Part I_

 _-x-_

"Look, all I'm saying is, it wouldn't kill you to just stop and actually think about it for even one teensy, weensy little second."

Jake's words sounded as stubborn as ever as they appeared from between his teeth in a mute hiss. The dark haired detective carefully peeked around the corner before lunging forward and holding his gun out in front of him, only to be met by yet another aisle of terrified civilians. Detective Peralta motioned for them to stay down and stay quiet as he took a step backwards. A breath escaped him as he gently nudged into his partner before the two of them spun around on the spot back-to-back to complete the same action in the next aisle of the department store.

"And all _I'm_ saying is," Amy snapped back just as sharply, "I can't just undo the fact that we already have plans. I'm promised my mom, Jake, quit making me feel so guilty."

Jake scoffed under his breath. Motioning to Detective Santiago that the next aisle was clear, he took an extra second to shoot her a disbelieving frown.

" _I'm_ making _you_ feel guilty?" he continued to argue in a hushed tone, "You're the one playing the 'Mom card' on me, Amy."

Rolling her eyes at him, Amy bit down hard on her tongue. God, Peralta could drive her crazy sometimes. The two detectives may have been called out to an emergency hostage situation at the biggest Macy's in Brooklyn that evening, but that didn't mean Jake and Amy were through with the argument they had been battling out at home. Not for a second.

For once in his life, Jake had actually been pretty damned proud of himself and his romantic escapades. Obviously it was going to be hard to ever top the night he and Amy had spent in the New York public library for their six month anniversary, but that had been Rosa's idea, anyway. Jake had _finally_ stumbled upon something of his own impulsive accord to show Amy just how much she meant to him.

And the best part was, it wasn't even their anniversary this time. Or Amy's birthday. _Or_ Christmas. No, what Jake had conjured up was one of those lucrative 'just because' gifts that made women swoon and turned them to absolute mush.

About ten miles up the street from where they stood right now, still back-to-back and still with their guns drawn, was the beautifully lavish Central Park. At first, Jake immediately detested the idea of something that sounded as lame as 'Shakespeare in the Park'. The breezy New York weather, some 'D' grade actors, and a bunch of nerdy, old literature - what a drag.

But as soon as he realised how much Amy would probably love it, Jake didn't even think twice when he snatched up two premium tickets. The smile on Amy's gorgeous face was _so_ worth all the dull performances and bad acting he was sure to endure.

Well, that all had been until his girlfriend suddenly thwarted his romantic plans and told him that they were going out of town for her mother's birthday next weekend instead.

It's not like Amy didn't appreciate what Jake had tried to do. She loved his gift, and she loved how unusually thoughtful he had been. But she had also reminded him a countless number of times over the past two months that their plans for the weekend in question were already set in stone. It wasn't her fault that her boyfriend _actually_ had the memory of a goldfish. They were going to her mother's birthday lunch, and that was that.

"Well, if me playing the 'Mom card' is what's going to make you come with me, then that's what I'm going to do."

Shaking his head at her, Jake remained quiet for a moment and raised a curious eyebrow. He and Amy had been scoping out the furniture department of the store in search of their two suspects who had the whole place on lock down and the staff held at gunpoint. The two armed men were last reported to be in the jewellery boutique, smashing the glass cabinets and stealing all the diamonds and other jewels they could get their hands on.

What had caught Jake's attention was the sight of the sloppily stacked display furniture that was creating a blockage to the boutique on the other side. The two detectives ran their eyes over the makeshift blockade, looking for a way through that wouldn't cause too much noise and alert their perps. Soon enough, Jake and Amy both spotted a gap in the poorly built structure and swapped a glance with each other.

The hole that was exposed against the left wall of the boutique's entrance looked to be just wide enough for the two of them to wriggle through. As much as she was still far too frustrated to be anywhere near him right now, Amy quietly huffed out in defeat and looked back to Jake, nodding towards the slim passage way. She took a step towards it, but before Amy could even begin to squeeze her way through to the next room, Jake suddenly slipped in front of her, opting for himself to ahead first. Holding her tongue all over again, Amy simply followed him with a prolonged silence.

As he shuffled past the numerous sofa chairs and coffee tables, Jake quietly cleared his throat. He never had been one to let Amy get the last word.

"So, how exactly do you suggest I get my money back for these wonderfully thoughtful tickets I bought for us, hm?"

Amy rolled her eyes again, "Ever heard of a refund, Mister Amazing Detective Slash Genius?"

"No refunds accepted," Jake instantly sniped back at her, "You honestly think I'd ever commit to something so incredibly lame without checking the returns policy first?"

The tiny trace of a sting in his words caused Amy to recoil slightly, "Well, maybe don't bother wasting your energy and going to all the effort for me next time."

By this point, both of their tempers were beginning to fire up far too quickly for their own good. So much so, Jake and Amy could almost feel the heated flames licking at their tongues when they opened their mouths to speak the exact same words at the exact same time.

"You're so inconsiderate..."

Falling to a surprised silence, Jake and Amy whipped their necks around to glare at each other. As he ducked his head under an obscurely placed lamp shade and tried to re-focus on the task at hand, Jake was the first to speak again.

"Hey, I was actually trying to do something romantic for once, okay?" he argued, "That doesn't make me inconsiderate."

"And me having the decency to stick to plans that you forgot about doesn't make me inconsiderate, either," Amy retorted, "Come on, Jake, seriously. It's going to be a nice weekend. You'll have a great time with my family - you always do."

"Oh, yeah, being constantly berated by your brothers and spending all my time trying to impress your dad who still hasn't even decided if he likes me yet. Can't wait," Jake snapped back sarcastically, not even stopping to think over his next words, "Maybe just don't invite me to the next big family event and go by yourself."

Thrown back by his argumentative nature for the absolute final time, Amy's brow furrowed in intense anger. She tightened the grip she had around her gun and felt some dangerously irritated words cross her lips, "Or maybe I'll just head out there a little early and spend the whole week with my mom and take a nice, long break away from you."

The very second that the last word left her in a vile whisper, Jake shot his eyes back towards Amy's. And for once in his life, Peralta was speechless.

It was four months ago now that Jake had purposely lost their bet, packed up all his belongings, finally threw away his one gray towel, and moved into Amy's apartment. And he could honestly say that they had been the best four months of his life so far. Living with Amy had just come so naturally to him - as hard as that may have been for anyone to believe. Amy's tidiness was rubbing off onto Jake in just the tiniest possible doses, and in return, Jake's relaxed attitude was allowing Amy to not be so uptight all the time.

They had bickered from time to time like people in healthy relationships often do, but they always made sure to never go to sleep angry with each other. And unless they were crashed out in exhaustion in front of the television, they never forced one another sleep on the couch, either.

Amy going to her mother's house may not have even been close to her abandoning him to sleep on the couch, but to Jake, the threat was all the same.

Remaining quiet for only a short instant longer, Jake forced down a lump in the back of his throat, "Fine."

Amy didn't believe him for a second. She was a good enough detective - and she knew her boyfriend well enough - to clearly see the pain sitting behind his deep, brown eyes. But still, she, too, refused to swallow her pride, "Fine."

"Good."

"It is good."

"Yep."

"Sure is."

"Wouldn't even miss ya'."

As the slimmest slither of hurt transferred from Jake to Amy at his last harsh comment, the beautiful brunette felt her heart skip a sad beat under her protective vest.

Somehow amongst all their childish sniping at one another, the two detectives had successfully wiggled their way through the tight gap in the wall of furniture. They were close to where they suspected their perps were holding up, and it was quickly becoming more and more vital that they stayed quiet. But in that moment, Amy couldn't be any more thankful for the silence. She couldn't even bear to utter another word to Jake as she simply glared at him and then spun around on her heels, darting off in the opposite direction.

Watching her as she left, Jake unwillingly let a miserable sigh escape him before he shook his head to himself. There would be plenty of time to make up with his girlfriend later - what they both needed to concentrate on right now was arresting the two goons and saving all the hostages.

The plan that Captain Holt had briefed them on was a simple one. To Jake's left, where Amy had just taken off to, was the cosmetics counter. To his right were racks upon racks of designer brand clothing. Directly in front of him, and keeping the bad guys' view of he and Amy obstructed, were the fitting rooms. All the pair had to do was sneak around to either side of the two robbers, surround them, and then wait for back up before taking them down.

Keeping the simplicity of all this in mind, Jake crouched down slightly and held his gun upright again as he calmly began to creep towards his mark on the opposite side of the boutique. The two criminals were well known to the Brooklyn police. Cousins Clay and Benny Strowman had terrorised countless other jewellery stores in the past two and a half months - but they were yet to come face to face with a squad like the Nine-Nine.

Bringing these guys in was going to be a _hell_ of a lot easier for Jake than it was for him to fight with Amy.

The tallest rack of clothing appeared in Jake's line of sight as he immediately fell into a squat and hid behind it. He took one more second to quickly check that his gun was properly loaded before he peeked out from behind the rack and glanced over to the shattered jewellery cabinets.

An instant twinge of confusion shot across Jake's brain when all he saw were six or seven terrified hostages - no bad guys.

"What the..."

Before the thought could even fully escape him, Jake's ears suddenly perked up at the distracting sound of a struggle echoing from the cosmetics section of the boutique. He shot his vision over to the other side of the store to find that both cash registers at the makeup counter had been ripped open and emptied by the greedy criminals.

Jake frowned. This wasn't these guys' mode of operation - they always stole jewels, not cash. They weren't supposed to be anywhere near the cosmetics counter.

 _...Wait_

As a dreaded sense of realisation quickly crashed down onto his shoulders, Peralta ceased any and all thought and peered further around the corner. And at the sight of a new hostage caught up in a vice-like grip with a gun held to her head, that's when his heart stopped.

Much to Jake's horror, it wasn't another civilian.

"Amy..." he muttered, "Crap."

Darting back down behind the rack of clothes, Jake took the shortest possible milisecond to squeeze his eyes shut and compose himself. He needed a plan, and he needed one now.

Reaching up to his ear piece, Detective Peralta drew in one last calming breath before he pushed the button on the tiny device, "Boyle, do you copy?"

Charles' response came in an instant, "I've got you, Jake, what's going on?"

"Do you have my location?" he asked, looking back over to where the Strowman cousins were holding Amy. His eyes narrowed at the tall door that stood right behind her, "There's a fire exit door to my one o'clock - what street does that lead out onto?"

From where he was placed in a car with Detective Diaz outside the store, Charles quickly used the computer on the dash board to look up the location of the GPS in Jake's radio, "Corner of Third and Hamilton."

"That's where you need to send back up," Jake commanded with a harsh whisper, "Get them here. Now."

"Copy that, Jakey."

As soon as Boyle's voice was gone, Jake came tumbling back into the reality that he was still on his own, and these crooks were still holding his partner hostage with the threat of a loaded weapon pointed at her skull.

Jake swallowed back another lump of nerves. He knew the right thing to do was to wait for back up, but just as he was maybe starting to reconsider this option, he heard the sickly smug voices of his two perps from the other side of the store.

"Well, well, what's a pretty little cop like you doing sneaking around this big ol' store all by yourself, hm?"

The smaller of the two cousins who stood just off to the side seemed to sway sort of nervously, "Aw, come on, man, surely she can't be here all alone."

"Yeah, sweetheart, where's your partner? Or your whole team? Come on, how many other little piglets have you got creeping around here with you?"

Their vile words to his girlfriend made Jake feel absolutely sick to his stomach.

 _No, dude, stop._

The reprimanding voice dwelling within Jake's subconscious cut him off before he could get carried away with too many other thoughts about Amy. He couldn't let himself slip into that mindset. This wasn't Amy, his gorgeous girlfriend, standing in the middle of the store in danger. It was Detective Santiago, his partner and colleague. It was crucial Jake constantly reminded himself of that so as not to make any rash decisions or crazy mistakes.

"Got nothing to say, then, princess?" the bigger and stronger of the two men snarled. He tightened the grip he had around Amy, earning a couple of uncomfortable groans from her.

But other than that, Santiago remained silent.

"Well, that's alright," he recommenced with his teeth clenched, "We've got ways of making you talk or making your team surrender."

The sound of the gun cocking shot through Jake like a bullet.

Screw waiting for back up. It was go time.

"NYPD!" he shouted, barrelling into the crooks' line of vision and pointing his gun at them, "Put the weapon down. Let her go."

The immediate tension that filled the room could have been sliced with a knife.

The civilian hostages sucked in a collective gasp from where they sat on the ground as they realised just how much the situation was quickly escalating. A small breath managed to escape Amy, too, as she locked her desperate eyes with Jake's and thanked God that he was there with her. But Peralta's focus was somewhere else entirely in that moment.

The bigger of the two cousins who had his arm tightly around Amy's neck smirked slyly at Jake. Clay, he thought to himself. The larger of the two, and the brains of all their illegal operations, was Clay Strowman. His younger, smaller cousin who was still fidgeting away off to the side was Benny Strowman. The ironically matched pair had somehow pulled off about a dozen jewellery store heists over the past number of weeks. But there was no way in hell Jake was going to let them get away with it this time.

Laughing to himself again, Clay raised an eyebrow at Detective Peralta, "Now, see, I knew that would make you come out of hiding. You're just lucky I didn't pull the trigger," he taunted, "How many more of you are there?"

"No one else, it's just me and her," Jake assured him, "How about we keep it that way? She and I can stay right here if you just let the other hostages go."

As he continued his calm negotiations, Jake took a couple of subtle moments to properly survey the situation. The hostages were placed a few feet away where the original robbery had begun to take place. Clay looked as determined as ever as he kept a firm hold of Amy and had his gun buried into her temple. Benny was visibly shaken by the appearance of another cop. He had Amy's gun stuffed down in the waistband of his jeans, and his own weapon was hanging loosely by his side with no real rythym or reason.

Narrowing his eyes, Jake took a mental note of the smaller thug's shattered confidence and terrified stance, before he slowly tilted his head just slightly to glance at Amy. As their longing gaze mirrored one another's, Jake felt his chest ache.

It didn't matter how much they had been angering each other only three or four minutes ago - the fear in Amy's brown orbs and the sight of her in direct danger broke Jake's heart and shook him to his absolute core.

"Now, now, don't try and start that crap with me," Clay suddenly cut back in, responding to Jake's last request, "The hostages go _nowhere_. I need as many get out of jail free cards as I can get."

Blowing out a quiet sigh of defeat, Jake simply shrugged his shoulders, "Okay, but if we're playing Monopoly, I get to be the race car."

"Jake..." Amy pleaded through gritted teeth.

"Ha, I'd listen to your little partner if I were you," Clay advised as his biceps gave Amy's torso another threatening squeeze, "I'm sure as hell not here to play any games."

A single bead of sweat slowly rolled down the side of Jake's face as he bit his tongue and tried to remain silent for a moment. Why the hell did he always have to be so impulsive? Right now was certainly not the time to be cracking any kind of joke.

"Or do I need to show you just how serious I'm being here?"

The foreboding words that slid out from between Clay's lips seemed to have a psychotic mind of their own. He viciously wrenched Amy around to further face Jake and he pressed the barrel of his gun even harder into her head.

"Clay..." Benny warned him with a murmur.

A mere ounce of Benny's panic washed over Jake as he nervously licked his lips, "Come on, don't be a dumbie, dude - you and I both know you aren't going to harm an NYPD detective."

The steady rate at which Jake's level of calmness was decreasing was obvious to every set of wide eyes that filled the room. Amy's heart was in her throat. For the first time that she could remember, _ever_ , the normally cool and cocky Jake Peralta was nowhere to be seen. And as she heard Clay swallow a smug lump directly behind her ear, Amy shuddered.

"Oh, won't I?" Clay asked, daring Jake to stop him as he shifted his finger down to hover over the trigger.

Without a second thought, Jake took two almighty steps forward, "I am not going to tell you again, _put the weapon down_!"

An exasperated breath escaped Amy as she didn't even stop to think.

"No, babe, just - "

The word left her with absolutely no sense of self-control as Amy quickly tightened her lips again and cringed. But it was too late. Clay and Benny had heard loud and clear how Amy had referred to Jake, and there was zero chance they were going to let her pretend like it had never happened.

"Well, did you hear that, Benny?" Clay snarled with a laugh, "I think these two little piggies are in love!"

Amy wanted to kick herself. There was nothing more important about working cases with Jake than making sure their relationship stayed completely under wraps. The last thing either of them needed was for a perp to gain any extra leverage in a stand off because of how deeply they felt and the terrifying lengths they would reach to keep each other safe.

But as Amy sensed a shudder cross her at the sensation of her captor running his hand down her back, it was almost certain that's exactly what she had just done.

"Not that I can blame you, of course, Detective," he spoke, directing his sinister words and actions at Jake, "If I had to work alongside this hot, little piece of ass every day, I'd wanna' take her for a ride, too."

Jake's knuckles were beginning to turn white from how tightly he was holding onto his gun. Amy continued to stare him down in a panic as she could almost swear she spotted a vein bulge out from his neck. She didn't even know Jake was capable of _having_ any veins there.

He was starting to get angry - _so_ angry, and Amy could tell. She tried to keep him calm with her gentle, brown orbs but was quickly distracted as Clay reached around to her side and began to unfasten her vest.

"Aw, come on, Clay," Benny muttered as he brought a hand to his head, "Are you seriously trying to get us shot right now?"

Clay snickered at his cousin's words with a sly smile. The filthy minded creep had a plan, and he knew exactly how to carry it out. As he untucked Amy's shirt from her pant suit and ran a hand along the bare flesh of her stomach, he glared Peralta directly in the eye.

And then, as his slimy fingers popped open the very top button of Amy's blouse, Clay leaned into her neck to take a single sniff of her hair, "Relax, Benny. I'm sure our detective friend here won't mind if I take a sample of his pretty little tramp."

Jake immediately saw red. He took one more giant step forward, his arms stiffening in the right-angle at which he was holding his gun. The fierce appearance on his face made Amy's chest skip a beat. Never had Jake looked so determined to fire his weapon with the intention of actually _hurting_ someone. She couldn't let him lose control like that.

"Jake, stop, you know he's just trying to make you mad so you make a mistake."

Almost instantly, Amy's words caused Jake to freeze on the spot.

She was right. Jake knew she was right. He had figured that out for himself the moment Clay Strowman had first wrapped his disgusting arms around her. But none of that necessarily meant it was going to be able to stop Jake from acting on an impulsive whim to protect her at all costs. No matter how much he tried to focus on the stolen jewellery or the terrified hostages or anything else about the job at hand - all he could see was his girlfriend. And all he could think about was the last words he had spoken to her before they were separated.

He wouldn't even miss her? It was the biggest lie Jake had ever told anyone in his life.

His dominant stance was beginning to crumble. Clay loosened Amy's bulletproof vest even more, undoing another button of her shirt and tugging her in even closer towards him. His gun was still pressed firmly into her skull. She continued to struggle with a victimised grimace on her face, and Jake's blood continued to boil. But... what more could he do?

Playing chicken with his own life was easy. Jake had done it a million times before. But to put Amy at risk like that? Her life was not one to be played with. Jake loved Amy far too much for that.

Benny Strowman breathed a sigh of relief as Peralta finally went to lower his gun to the floor in surrender. He thought for sure that his older cousin's wildly evil intentions were going to lead to some seriously scary consequences from the detective who had been aiming at them with such purpose. All that Jake could do was glance up at his girlfriend with an apologetic glisten in his timid, brown eyes. Clay chuckled again and nodded towards him, gesturing for Benny to go and retrieve the gun and take Jake hostage.

That was when they all heard it.

The sudden noise of an almighty crash went ringing throughout the boutique. There were a few weighted thumps and the unmistakable sound of glass shattering to a thousand pieces. The commotion of it all had immediately caused Benny to spring backwards in shock, and Clay to detach himself from Amy with his head tilted curiously to one side.

"What the fu-"

Jake didn't even flinch.

Bringing his gun back up in front of him, he only took a quarter of a second longer to adjust his aim. And then, with probably the fastest reaction time he had ever recorded, Jake didn't blink as the bullet fired from his weapon and pierced right through the thigh of Clay Strowman.

The giant of a man roared out in agony as the impact caused him to drop his own gun cold to the ground. There were still a million other sounds taking place all around them. Turns out the makeshift barrier of furniture was just as poorly built as Jake and Amy suspected. As the pile of wood and cushions and glass had come toppling down to the ground, it had been enough noise to distract the two criminals and for Jake to steal the opportunity to strike.

Some of the hostages were shrieking with fear, Benny was yelling and cussing at the sight of his injured cousin, and some other police sirens were finally starting to scream out way off in the distance. But Jake wasn't letting any of that throw him off his game. He had one eye carefully glued on Benny to see how he might retaliate, while Amy scrambled for Clay's discarded weapon.

But the big man wasn't going down without a fight.

All of the frantic energy that filled the small boutique suddenly turned to utter silence for Jake as all he could hear was the shocked, high-pitched screech of a female voice that was all too recognisable to him.

The most selfish parts of his brain began to pray that the noise had come from one of the civilians as Peralta slowly turned back to face where Amy and Clay Strowman had been standing. And then, Jake felt his world split in half.

The larger of the two perps was still grasping at the excruciating pain pulsating through his leg with one hand, but in his other sat a very long, very sharp looking kitchen knife that was dripping with blood. Amy's blood.

"Amy!"

Jake's cries were as shattering as the sight of Amy collapsed on the ground and clutching at her side where she had been stabbed. Without even stopping to take a glance at his handy work, Clay immediately turned on his heels and hobbled over towards the fire exit as fast as his injured leg could carry him. Benny was simply frozen in place, standing over Amy's body with his arms held out to either side in utter disbelief, "Holy shit, man!"

With his mind switching to auto-pilot, Jake took a first step towards Amy and reached for his radio, "Officer down!" he announced into the mouth piece, "I have an officer down! I need a bus to the Macy's on Third Avenue! Repeat, I need a bus now!"

As he shoved his radio back onto his belt and quickened his steps towards his fallen partner, Jake narrowed his eyes at Benny where he remained standing idly by. The younger of the two cousins quickly realised that Detective Peralta was bolting straight towards him as he choked on a terrified gasp and turned around to run. Grinding his teeth together in pure frustration, Jake snatched up his baton and extended it out to its full length.

He might not have been as athletic as Rosa, and he certainly wasn't as strong as Terry, but he knew how to use all of his equipment. And Jake _knew_ that with just one swing he could completely demolish this scrawny piece of crap's kneecaps if he wanted to. And for the first time in in his whole career - Peralta really, _really_ wanted to.

But, somehow, Jake found it within himself to use all the restraint he could muster. Catching up to Benny with ease, he hit him across the back of his legs just hard enough so that he, too, would fall to the floor in pain. Leaping on him and instantly confiscating his two weapons - Benny's own gun along with Amy's - Jake then whipped out his handcuffs and locked them around the younger Strowman's wrists as tightly as he could.

He took two quick seconds to glance up at the fire door just in time to see Clay struggling to escape to the other side of it. Jake cursed under his breath, but he didn't remain hung up on the moment for too long. Letting go of his arrested criminal, Jake turned towards his left. Towards Amy.

"Ames..."

The affectionate word left him with a mere murmur as Jake crawled across the floor to be by her side. Benny immediately attempted to spring to his feet and make an awkward, hasty exit, but the jewellery counter's security guard who had been taken hostage quickly took over for Jake in holding the smaller criminal down.

Jake's panicked heart was beating so fast that it felt like it was going to explode in his chest. Cradling Amy's head in his hands, he fastened his eyes to her's. He simply couldn't bring himself to glance down at the wound behind her loosened vest that was still pouring with blood. A watery lump formed in his throat as his girlfriend gazed up at him in desperation. She was struggling to breathe as she tried to force out a couple of words to him.

"No, no," Jake hushed her, "No, babe, don't talk, it's okay, the ambulance is on its way, okay?"

As faint memories of his basic first aid training began to reform in his mind, Jake finally peeled back Amy's vest and lifted up the side of her shirt to gaze at the long, deep gash that stared back at him. Jake swallowed, hard. He didn't know if he wanted to burst into tears or throw up, but neither of those options were going to be any help to Amy in that moment.

The remaining hostages had made it to their feet and were curiously milling around the area in which Amy had fallen. Jake gawked up at the small group and fixated his vision on a tall man wearing a thick, black jacket.

"You, here," he commanded, beckoning to the the bystander, "Jacket, now."

Immediately doing what the detective had asked him, the man shrugged out his jacket and passed it down to Peralta on the floor. Taking a second to compose himself with a deep breath, Jake exposed Amy's wound a little further and then pressed the black fabric into her side, applying all the pressure that he could.

Amy flinched and cringed at the instant, intense pain that went shooting up the side of her body and all the way to her brain. She probably would have screamed if she had the breath to do so. An uncomfortable guilt churned within Jake as he moved one arm away from her waist and reached his hand across to meet her's.

The sight of his girlfriend's blood that stained his palm and his fingertips made him feel absolutely sick to his stomach.

Trying as best as he could to push this thought to the back of his mind, Jake timidly licked his lips and went to speak to her again, until he jumped slightly at the sound of loud voices and heavy footsteps echoing from behind him. Turning to look over his shoulder, Jake felt his chest settle slightly as his back up team had finally arrived and were clambering over the pile of fallen furniture.

Better late than never, Jake supposed, but he didn't allow himself to stay spiteful for long. At least he knew he would be leaving Amy in trustworthy hands while he chased Clay Strowman down.

As the final remnants of this thought slowly trickled from his brain, Jake suddenly narrowed his eyes, frowning to himself. Shooting his vision back down to focus completely on Amy, he swallowed what he sensed was another lump of nervous vomit.

Jake knew he needed to listen to what his first instinct had been - bolt out of the building, hunt down Clay, arrest him, and close the case. But as his brown orbs continued to mirror the near identical ones that gazed back at him with so much fear, Jake second guessed himself.

"Peralta!"

The sound of his name being called across the room by one of the uniformed officers from the Nine-Nine snapped Jake out of his trance. He whipped his neck around to glance at the five or six other police, and then looked back to his girlfriend.

Except - no. This wasn't his girlfriend, Amy. It was his partner, Detective Santiago.

Without stewing on the thought for a moment longer, Jake spun back around on the ground, keeping a tight hold of his partner's hand as he called out to the other officers, "We've got one suspect restrained and cuffed right here. His weapon and the weapon of the second perp are on the ground, and so is Detective Santiago's."

The robotic tone caking his voice felt so strange to Jake as he paused for a breath and continued to brief his team on the situation, "She's been stabbed, there's a bus on its way here for her right now."

In a last ditch attempt to assure himself that he was doing all the right things, Jake allowed his eyes to fall back to Amy's one last time. His brow immediately crinkled. Amy was still conscious and alert, but her skin was looking a lot more pale, the strength in her grip was weakening, and her breathing was short and sharp, like she was struggling a thousand times more than before and absolutely gasping for breath.

Something was seriously wrong. Jake knew it. But he also knew he still had a job to do.

Giving Amy's hand a tight, loving squeeze, he slowly began to slip his fingers away from her's, unhooking her own set of handcuffs from her belt.

"You're okay, Ames. You're gonna' be okay, okay? I promise," his words appeared to her in the most quiet whisper as he cradled her cheek for the shortest possible moment, "I'll cya' in a sec."

Leaping to his feet and ripping his gun back out of its holster, Jake went tearing off towards the fire exit. In one final bout of hesitation, he glanced back to Amy to make sure that one of the uniformed officers had taken his place by her side. When he spotted Officer Griffiths holding the black jacket firmly against Amy to stop as much blood flow as she could, Jake nodded to himself.

He needed to find Clay. The crook needed to pay for what he had done.

The harsh sting of the icy New York breeze whipped Jake across the face as he burst through the fire door and into the back alley that sat on the corner of Third Avenue and Hamilton Street. As big and powerful as he was, Clay Strowman couldn't have gotten very far - not one one leg, no way. Even if he had to search for him all night long, Jake was focused. He wasn't going to let this case go unsolved. Glancing down at his gun, he cringed at the sight of Amy's blood covering his skin, but quickly forced the harrowing thought from his mind.

Jake snapped his head back and forth as he looked up and down the alley a couple of times. Surely this guy wasn't so much of an idiot that he would choose to run out into the open street where any number of other cops could be looking for him. Considering this logic for a second longer, Jake quickly dug his heels into the pavement and spun around, heading down in the opposite direction.

The time that had passed between Strowman escaping and Jake running after him must have been a hell of a lot shorter than how it actually felt. All it had taken from Detective Peralta was the fastest little sprint he had ever ran in his life and a smooth drift around the corner of the alley until his vision zeroed in on a very large, very clumsy looking perp trying to scale the fire escape on the side of the building.

He supposed the crook's plan had been sort of genius - no one would think to look for a hobbled, injured criminal up on a roof top. The dumbest thing about it was simply how much Strowman had underestimated Jake and the fact that would be coming after him for some serious justice. With a little bit of pure revenge served on the side, of course.

"Freeze, Strowman!" Jake thundered into the alley.

The commanding tone in Jake's voice caused Clay to slip in surprise, grunting in agony as his bullet wound came into contact with the metal railing of the stairs. Gawking down to the ground beneath him, the bigger Strowman growled in frustration at Detective Peralta where he stood firm with his weapon pointed at him all over again.

"You seriously think I won't shoot your other leg?" Jake challenged, "You're under arrest. Come down from there and keep your hands where I can see them."

The stubborn criminal remained motionless in his place a minute longer. His leg was in far too much pain to try to climb any further, and he knew if he reached back for his knife, Peralta was going to release fire. The jig was well and truly up.

Huffing out in infuriated defeat, Clay wrapped one arm around the metal pole of the stairwell so he could hold both hands up in a second of surrender. He stretched his good leg down to the next step and then tried to slowly and carefully hop down one by one.

Jake couldn't help but smile and snigger a little when the great oaf slipped all over again and instead came tumbling down to the ground from about five feet up in the air.

A second tortured scream sprung from Strowman's voice box as he landed hard on his injured leg. The couple of deep roars from his throat had been so loud that they finally attracted the attention of two other uniformed officers who had been patrolling the front of the department store. Swapping a quick glance with them, Jake holstered his gun and then reached down to the ground, viciously dragging Clay to his feet. His bottom lip curled up in a snarl as he mustered all his strength and shoved his perp up against the brick wall to cuff him.

"Ow! Aw, shit, man," Strowman whined, "Police brutality, ever heard of it, asshole?"

Jake chuckled under his breath as he shook his head. Strowman was lucky that Peralta was still managing to somehow show some restraint. He could have been _so_ much more brutal in that moment if he really wanted to.

Snatching the kitchen knife away from the inside of the goon's jacket, Jake handled it carefully as he stuffed it into the back of his cargo pants. And then, as Detective Peralta took Amy's set of cuffs from his belt and locked them tightly around Clay's wrists, he leaned in and swallowed, bringing his voice to a threatening whisper.

"If she's hurt," he began, "I am going to lock you up in the deepest, darkest, grimiest hole so far down in the bottom of Rikers that you are _never_ going to see the light of day again."

Ploughing straight into an instant silence, Clay didn't even dare to murmur another whimper from the pain in his leg. His cocky, criminal bravado diminished into complete nothing. Strowman didn't think in a million years that he'd ever come across a cop smart enough and brave enough to actually take him down.

But Strowman didn't know Peralta. And Strowman didn't have the first clue about what Peralta was capable of when any harm was caused to Santiago.

Ripping him away from the wall, Jake pulled Clay around to face the two officers who were standing behind him and cleared his throat, "Can you handle this for me?"

Both of the other boys in blue frowned.

"What?" one of them asked with a snort and a chuckle, "No sarcastic pun or witty catch phrase, Peralta?"

Blowing out a near mute sigh, Jake calmly shook his head and carefully handed over Strowman and the bloodied knife to the two officers, "Just get him out of here."

The very second that the criminal and his weapon were in the safe hands of his back up team, Jake twirled around on the spot and started in a slow jog back towards the jewellery boutique. He could hear his two team mates reading Strowman his rights. It would be them to write the arrest report, and probably them who would earn a lot of the credit for bringing the repeat offender in. But Jake didn't care. Now that the case was closed, he had something much more important on his mind.

Images of Amy and harsh memories of their stupid, immature argument were beginning to flood Jake's brain as he rounded the corner and spotted the fire door he had exited through. All he wanted was to be back by Amy's side, riding with her to the hospital, holding her hand the whole time, apologising to her for being such a jerk... and absolutely assuring her of just how much he loved her.

He had almost completely formed the most sickeningly sweet apology that he could possibly muster, when Jake suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. His collaring of Strowman might have been one of the fastest of his career, but Jake apparently still hadn't been quick enough as he arrived at the street corner just in time to see a New York ambulance tearing away up the street and out of sight.

Jake cursed out loud and kicked the dumpster in the alley in frustration. He barely even felt the dull pain in his foot from doing so as he reached for his radio once more.

"Captain, do you copy?"

There was only two or three seconds of silence before the deep, monotone voice of Captain Holt echoed through the receiver in the radio, "Copy, Peralta," Raymond responded, "What happened, what's your location?"

Ignoring the questions from his C.O., Jake ran a hand back through his hair, "Have you heard anything from the medical team that took Santiago?"

"Yes, Sergeant Jeffords and I are following behind them right now," he explained, "She's on her way to the hospital in Fort Greene."

Jake didn't even hesitate as he spoke one final sentence before switching off his radio. It was go time again.

"So am I."

 _-x-_

 **Hello to all those reading, and thank you for doing so! I'm new to writing for the B99 fandom, and I am (obviously) completely obsessed with Peraltiago :)**

 **I'd love to hear what you all thought, and whether you think Amy is going to be okay, and how you think Jake might react to what's happened. Please review!**

 **Stay tuned for the next instalment, and feel free to go back and read my other B99 story - a oneshot entitled _Double Noice_ based during the S3 episode ' _The Cruise_ '. I really appreciate the support :)**

 **Till next time guys,**

 **Reneyyyyyy x**


	2. Part II

_**Breathless.  
**_ _Part II_

 _-x-_

Jake's heart was in his throat.

From the very moment that he had switched off his radio and dived into the squad car, right up until where he stood now, his blood had been absolutely racing through his body at a freakishly frantic pace.

He had turned his siren on at full volume and driven with his lights flashing all the way from Macy's to the hospital. He lost count of how many cars he had swerved between and how many red lights he ran, but Jake didn't care. There was no risk he could take that was going to cause more concern within him than the single most horrifying moment of his life already had.

As he darted his way up the corridor, grumbling under his breath and flashing his badge at anyone who tried to stop him along the way, Jake could hear the clip-clop of Gina's heels following closely behind him. The two had bumped into each other at the building's entrance, but Jake barely even stopped to acknowledge her as all he could do was barrel his way through the front door and into the lobby.

Of course, in any normal circumstance, Gina would never be one to turn down the opportunity to make a grand entrance all of her own. But as soon as she spotted the appearance of pure dread that lay across the face of her dearest friend, Gina knew that this was no normal circumstance.

Charles had messaged his step sister as soon as he and Rosa had pulled up to the hospital together. The panic of the whole situation may have caused him a temporary lapse in his recently acquired texting etiquette, but after a handful of emojis, way too many exclamation marks, and two GIFs, Boyle had finally been able to tell her what happened.

And without a second thought, Gina was right there to be by both of her friends' sides. She, and the rest of the Nine-Nine.

The group jumped in the slimmest surprise and darted their eyes up to land on the door that lead into the hall as Jake came blasting through it like a rocket. Terry immediately came to his feet and cleared his throat, but Peralta wasn't giving anyone else the chance to speak. Not before him.

Not before he knew that Amy was safe.

"Where is she?"

A slight wave of speechlessness washed over the group at the sight of their dishevelled colleague standing in the doorway. Jake's shirt was untucked from his police belt that was barely clinging to his waist, his hair was a mess, and his eyes were wide with distress.

But more notably than anything else, Peralta's hands and sleeves were still lightly speckled and stained with the deep red of his partner's blood.

Swallowing back an incredibly cautious lump, Terry took one step towards Jake. The sergeant braced himself as he nervously licked his bottom lip, "She's in surgery."

In less than a second, Jake's heart dropped from the back of his mouth all the way down to the pit of his stomach.

"Surgery?!"

Joining the fray and placing himself right beside his best friend, Charles took a gentle hand to Jake's shoulder, "The knife punctured her right lung and it collapsed."

Jake shrugged himself out of Charles' grip, "Collapsed?!"

"Relax, the doctor said she's gonna' be fine," Rosa eased him from her place on the arm of the couch in the middle of the room, "He said it looks pretty nasty, but it's nothing he can't handle."

"Nothing he can't handle?!"

As this final outburst caused his team mates to raise a collective eyebrow at him, Jake paused for a moment before shaking his head, "Sorry, I just started repeating everything that everyone was saying and I couldn't stop."

As frantic and panicked as his repetitive ramblings may have been, his squad were relieved to see that typical, joking Jake Peralta was still dwelling deep down inside of him somewhere. But the instant of slight humour didn't last long.

"Well, what exactly happened? What did the doctor say? When can I - " at his third heated question, Jake cut himself off. He paused, sighing subtly under his breath, "When can we see her?"

Charles felt his own heart thump sadly in his chest. He knew what his best friend had really meant to ask. Reaching for Jake's shoulder again, Boyle cleared his throat and went to speak, until he was interrupted by a voice that had been yet to join the conversation.

"She's only just been admitted to surgery," Holt announced with a low, booming tone.

The squad's Commanding Officer was standing beside the large, glass windows that stretched along the far wall of the waiting room. Jake followed the sound of his monotone remark as his vision drifted up to land on the image of Captain Holt. His eyes immediately furrowed into a frown. For a C.O. whose best detective had just been carelessly sliced and diced like a lump of meat, Raymond didn't appear any less unreadable than usual.

"I'd say it should only be another hour or so until she's out again," Raymond went on, "From what the doctor told us, it sounded like a rather simple procedure."

Jake's brown orbs narrowed to an even sharper angle. Of course. Holt _always_ had all the answers.

"And what 'procedure', exactly, are we talking about here?" Jake questioned, taking a step closer to Raymond as he framed the medical word with some sarcastic air quotes.

Raymond merely raised an obvious eyebrow, "Pleurodesis."

Jake threw his arms out to the side, "Why do you say that like you think I'm gonna' know what it means?"

As perhaps a few too many pairs of curious, civilian eyes began to cast their way over to where Jake's voice was continuing to creep up little by little, Terry took a firm stand between him and their captain.

"Jake, just try to calm down, man," he spoke gently, "How about you take a seat and - "

"No, I don't want to sit down," Jake snapped back, pacing the tiled floor.

"Okay," Charles interjected again, "Well, if there's anything you want to talk about, then - "

"No, Boyle, I don't want to talk to anybody, either."

"Peralta," Holt sniped at him, reprimanding his flustered detective.

The scowl on Jake's face was all too obvious as he turned to unwillingly face Captain Holt. Pausing for a moment, Raymond simply sighed as he sensed his own expression soften. He could only imagine how worrying it must have been for Peralta to not have any real answers about the person he loved.

Raymond understood exactly how Jake felt. But what Jake needed to understand, was that there was a time and place for everything. And here and now just weren't it.

"I know you're frustrated, and I understand your anxiety, but standing here snapping at your colleagues and causing a scene isn't going to make Santiago's surgery proceed any faster," he explained calmly, watching as Jake's heated exterior slowly began to melt away. Staring his detective up and down, Holt gestured to the blood painted on Jake's shirt and hands, "Go down the hall to the restroom and tidy yourself up."

Jake rolled his eyes, "No, look, I'm fine, okay? I'll just wait - "

"Peralta," Raymond instantly countered him, "That's an order."

The final word left Holt's lips with more authority than ever, but still, Jake remained unmoved for just the shortest moment longer. He was reluctant to leave the waiting room. Not when Amy could be out of surgery and needing him any minute now.

Deep down, though, the detective was smart enough to know that it was probably best he clean himself up before he saw her. The last thing he wanted was to cause Amy any further distress at the sight of her blood hauntingly stained into his skin.

As his firm stance noticeably shifted just slightly, Gina took a step forward and placed a gentle hand around her friend's arm, "C'mon, boo, let's go get you cleaned up."

Almost flinching at the sudden contact, Jake ripped himself away from Gina, "No, Gina, just - "

Jake paused, biting down hard on his tongue. He hadn't meant to snap again. Not at Gina - _never_ at Gina. He cringed at the twinge of hurt sitting in her eyes as he blew out a long breath and reached down to give her hand an apologetic squeeze.

"Just, um... I'm fine, Gina, thanks, I'm okay on my own," he muttered lamely with a soft smile. He felt a sense of relief cross him as his friend returned the same understanding smirk.

Jake just needed to be on his own right now. And so, without uttering another word, Peralta shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to Gina before he slowly twirled around on his heels. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Jake then shuffled his way towards the door, out of the waiting room, and down the hall.

His head was spinning so fast that it felt like all his thoughts were going to implode inside his skull. Each step he took towards the restroom was like another boulder of guilt crashing down onto his shoulders. Jake would have given anything to be by Amy's side in that moment. But he would give even _more_ to be the one lying on the operating table instead of her.

Trying his best to shake the harrowing thought from his mind, Jake shoved open the door to the male bathroom and stood at the basin in front of the mirror. He sort of shook his head to himself. He highly doubted that regular, old hand soap was going to be enough to properly scrub his skin clean of the blood. But still, not wanting to spark any further disputes with his captain, Jake silently rolled up his sleeves and turned on the faucet.

The warm water felt kind of refreshing for the first few seconds. But soon enough, the deep, red colour that ran through the clear liquid and swashed in the bottom of the sink made Jake's stomach turn.

This wasn't like him. Jake had seen more than enough blood through all his years on the force to never really get all that queasy. But this wasn't just _any_ person's blood.

Scrubbing his hands as ferociously as he could, Jake felt a couple of sharp scratches and pinches from his nails until he was satisfied that his skin was completely clean. He reached for the tap again, turning the faucet off and releasing a heavy sigh from the pit of his lungs.

The empty roll of paper towel made him grumble in annoyance as Peralta shook the water dry from his hands and then rubbed his weary eyes. His previous dizziness had slowly begun to leave him, but only to be replaced with a thumping headache right at the back of his skull. He didn't suppose it was any worse or any better. No matter what particular kind of crappy Jake was feeling, it all meant the exact same thing. Nothing was going to snap him out of his funk until the most terrifying parts of his evening were over.

As he removed his hands from his eyes, his sight was immediately taken over by an array of coloured specks that danced in front of him before his vision slowly returned to normal. The very moment that it did, and as soon as he saw his reflection materialise before him in the glass mirror, Jake felt himself go numb.

This wasn't the Jake Peralta he knew within himself staring back at him. As long as Amy was lying helplessly inside the operating theatre, within what could very well be just an inch of her life, there was a part of Jake that was absolutely eating him alive.

He couldn't see the twelve-year veteran detective of the Nine-Nine who had single-handedly taken down two dangerous criminals. He couldn't see the quick-thinking, cool, calm and collected genius who had stopped his partner from bleeding out all over the floor of Macy's.

All he could see was the selfish, pig-headed, childish jerk who had gotten so angry over nothing and treated the love of his life like she was a pile of dirt.

* * *

' _There was a hold up at the Macy's on Third Avenue - isn't that in your district?_ '

' _The news is saying a female detective was injured..._ '

' _Is everyone okay? Are you okay?_ '

The barrage of text messages from his mother was sort of starting to get on Jake's nerves. The vibrations from his phone shot up his leg for a third or fourth time as he reached into his pocket and snatched it up into his hand. As he unlocked the slim lined device and scrolled through the latest string of panicked words from Karen Peralta, Jake sighed.

He honestly couldn't blame her for bombarding him so much - he could only imagine how worried she must have been to have not heard from him all evening. Normally, Jake would never leave his mother hanging for so long when one of his cases made the news. But this time around, seeing as one of his team mates had been severely wounded, Captain Holt had given specific orders not to let any word of Amy's injuries become public knowledge until they were certain that she was going to be alright.

The only issue was, it had been just over an hour since Jake had arrived at the Fort Greene hospital, and Amy still hadn't been released from her surgery.

Slowly bringing his vision up from where he was aimlessly twiddling his thumbs, Jake spied his captain still standing over by the long windows of the waiting room. Peralta was sitting in an uncomfortable, gray chair where he had been pretty much frozen for the past hour. He narrowed his eyes at Holt and daringly licked his bottom lip.

"Have you still not even contacted her parents yet?"

Barely even turning his glance away from the glass, Raymond quietly cleared his throat, "There's no need to worry anyone until we know the full extent of her injuries."

Jake rolled his eyes. It's not like they were successfully hiding the full story, anyway - there was already enough media buzz surrounding the police operation that had taken place in Brooklyn earlier that day. One of the civilians who had been taken hostage by the Strowmans took the first opportunity presented to her to stand in front of a camera and talk to a reporter. All she had managed to reveal was that "the lady detective got stabbed by those crooks" before a number of uniformed officers from the Nine-Nine had shut the interview down and further restricted the area around the crime scene.

The footage had been played on every news station in the tri-state area about half a dozen times by now. Karen wasn't dumb, and Jake certainly knew Amy's parents weren't dumb, either. They had to have even the slightest inkling that something was seriously wrong.

The guilt was starting to completely eat Jake up inside. But that definitely wasn't the only thing making him feel a sick level of remorse.

Before he could get too lost within his self-deprecating thoughts, Jake shifted slightly as Raymond stepped away from the window and sat down in the seat beside him. He took a second to quickly survey the waiting room and take note of what the rest of his team was doing.

Terry was on his cell phone, saying goodnight to his girls as Sharon prepared to put the three of them to bed. Gina was half-heartedly trying to calm Charles down and not react too sarcastically as he fidgeted nervously in his chair. Rosa was pacing back and forth in a heated fashion, muttering something under her breath about what she was going to do to Clay Strowman if she ever got her hands on him. Hitchcock and Scully had shown up by now, as well. But all the two older detectives were doing was taking turns wrestling with the vending machine in a bid to release the chocolate bar that Scully paid for but had gotten stuck halfway through its descent.

So, to be completely honest, there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary going on. Which meant it was an opportunity as perfect as any other for Raymond to spend some more time talking to Jake.

"That was some fine police work today, Peralta."

Jake scoffed under his breath at a volume that he thought was silent. But each of Raymond's five senses were completely unwavering. He raised a curious eyebrow as he heard the displeased sound escape the younger man.

"You wouldn't agree?"

Keeping his lips pressed tightly together for the shortest second, Jake soon shrugged his shoulders, "Well, I didn't sucker punch the bad guys with a classic Peralta catchphrase when I arrested them, so there's that."

The cynical response from his detective didn't surprise Holt for a second. As he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back into his chair, Raymond took a few moments of silent hesitation. He continued to subtly glance at Jake out of the corner of his eye.

The Captain knew there was something else bothering Jake - something more than just his natural concerns for his girlfriend. It was obvious. Jake wasn't great at hiding his feelings, he never had been. But, on the other hand, he had never been particularly great at _sharing_ his feelings, either.

It was definitely going to take some next level interrogation on Raymond's behalf if he even planned on getting to the bottom of Jake's peculiar mood.

"I suppose it's a good thing that narratives surrounding awkward puns and cliche police expressions aren't included in an official report, then," Holt prodded back, "But, you know what you did do?"

"Uh, nothing _awkwardly_ , that's for sure," Jake retorted, adjusting the collar of his jacket with a tad too much cockiness.

Refusing to even acknowledge his second bout of sarcasm, Captain Holt continued right along, "You followed my instructions perfectly, you didn't panic when the situation fell out of your control, you kept the hostages safe, and you reacted with appropriate forcefulness when you chose to open fire. It truly was an amazing display of restraint."

As he trailed off slightly, Raymond took a quiet instant to peer back at Jake to examine just how much his head must have been growing from all the unrivalled praise being placed upon him. And yet, Jake remained expressionless. The aura of smugness that was normally formed in the atmosphere around him had dissipated to a dull sense of doom and gloom.

Knitting his eyebrows together in a frown, Raymond paused for only a second or two longer before deciding to subtly tweak the main subject of his recount of that afternoon.

"You had your partner's back," he began carefully, "You didn't allow the threats placed upon her to get tangled up with your personal feelings, you treated her injuries to the best of your abilities, and you made sure she was okay before successfully pursuing your perp."

Again, Jake could only scoff, "Before I abandoned her there, you mean."

Almost instantly, the cogs in Captain Holt's brain turned over and began to quicken in pace. If there was one other thing that Peralta was horrible at, it was painting a clear picture of himself. Jake always either saw himself as a super hero, or as an undeserving scumbag - there was no in between. And it was all too obvious to Raymond which way Jake was beginning to sway after the day's events.

"You had a job to do, Peralta," Raymond gently reiterated, "You got Santiago all the help she needed, you can't be blamed for stepping away from her side to carry out your arrest."

Jake shook his head, "The officers patrolling the building would have caught up to Strowman eventually, I should have gone in the ambulance with her."

"Okay, so let's say you had done that. What if the rest of the squad never actually managed to hunt down Clay Strowman, leaving him to escape solely because of your decision. How would you have felt then?"

"Not as crappy as I do right now," Jake instantly sniped back. He didn't have the first clue what Holt was doing or what he was trying to say, but quite frankly, Jake wished that he would just shut up.

There was nothing that anyone could tell him to erase the intense feeling of guilt churning in his stomach. _His_ partner had gotten stabbed on _his_ watch - there was no other way to put it. And the more Holt continued to prod and poke at him, the more Peralta could sense a vicious fire brewing in the back of his throat.

"None of what happened is your fault. It was by sheer dumb luck that Santiago's vest fell out of place and Strowman was able to access her with his knife," Raymond concluded firmly.

Jake narrowed his dark, brown eyes, desperately holding down a shudder.

The image he had kept to himself of Strowman peeling away at Amy's clothes and caressing her stomach and purposely leaning his lips in towards her neck with a disgustingly sinister snarl was absolutely ingrained in Peralta's brain. The whole ordeal had almost been worse than the physical threat of the gun being held to her head. Jake had never felt more helplessly sick in his whole life.

Turning back to face Captain Holt, Jake clenched his hand into a fist where it sat in his lap, "You weren't there."

"That may be, but the paramedics made it clear to me what happened."

"Hearing what happened isn't the same as seeing it."

"She was in a stable condition."

"No, she was bleeding out all over the floor!"

The abrupt outburst from the enraged detective was Jake's ultimate breaking point as the rest of his team immediately snapped their necks around to stare at him. Rosa and Terry were both frowning in confusion, while Gina and Charles had the most heart broken concern sitting on the brink of their vision.

For a moment longer, Jake's own expression remained the same seething shade of red that had consumed him at his last thought of Amy.

In fact, the only appearance that hadn't changed was Captain Holt's.

Raymond barely even flinched at Jake's words that had basically slapped him right across the face. He took a couple of quiet seconds to simply stare the younger man down until the flames sitting behind his eyes slowly began to vanish. Turning to face the rest of his squad, Raymond calmly shooed their curious glances away, and then settled his gaze back upon Jake.

By now, Peralta was dwelling in a suitable level of embarrassment as the civilian patrons in the waiting room eventually turned their gawking stares away from him, too. With a loud groan of annoyance within himself, Jake ran his hand down his face.

He hadn't meant to snap at his captain like that - especially not when it was his short temper that had dug him into his dark, dirty pit of guilt in the first place. He certainly couldn't afford to dive down any deeper than he already had.

"Sorry," he half mumbled into his hand before going for a genuine second attempt, "I'm sorry. You're right, I know this isn't my fault - accidents in the field happen all the time, detectives can get stabbed, or shot in the butt, or yadda, yadda, yadda..."

Heaving out a deep sigh as his sentence trailed off, Jake nervously scratched the back of his neck. He stared aimlessly down into his lap. He wasn't sure if Holt was going to be interested in the angst ridden reason for the true source of all his remorse, but he _had_ already made enough of an idiot of himself.

Where was the harm in burying himself in just a tad more crap at the bottom of his sad, little hole?

"She and I were arguing all afternoon," he admitted through gritted teeth, "Over something so dumb, like, dumber than me at a trivia contest, dumb. I wanted to take her out next weekend, but then she reminded me that we have to go see her parents for her mom's birthday instead, and just..."

Jake chuckled under his breath with complete disbelief in himself, "... _So_ dumb."

A long quiet fell in between the two of them once more. It sort of made Jake wriggle uncomfortably where he sat. He supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised. Any time Jake wanted Holt to zip it, the older man could find a million and one things to say, but whenever he actually was looking for comfort and advice from his boss, he would turn as silent as the grave.

More than anything else, the dreary silence was doing nothing but leaving Jake stuck within his own thoughts again. And despite how much Raymond had been trying to help dig his detective out of his reprehensible rut of regret, Jake honestly still felt just as hard on himself as he had all afternoon.

"I was a massive jerk for not being there for her with that, and I'm an even bigger jerk for not being there for her now."

Turning just to his right to almost glare at him, Raymond allowed the smallest possible chuckle of his own to leave his lips. The very corner of his mouth turned up in the teeniest, tiniest smirk, "Jake, you're sitting right here," he argued simply, "You made it here in time for her, _and_ you managed to simultaneously catch your perp and close the case. No one would be more proud of you for doing that than Santiago."

As these last few words from Holt rumbled and echoed in Jake's chest, he flicked his eyes up to meet those of his captain. And for the first time that evening, Jake sort of believed something Raymond was telling him.

The thought of the beaming grin of pride that Jake could just imagine on Amy's face made him tingle for a second as he sniffled and ran the back of his arm under his nose. But still, Jake only shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't just his _actions_ from that day that he was regretting.

"Yeah, well, I might have been a good cop today, but I was a loser boyfriend. My 'romantic stylez' were _preeeetty_ cruddy," he offered with a lame laugh. In the next second, his expression seemed to turn to stone, "I told her 'cya' later', or something freakin' stupid like that. When she was lying there. On the ground. Before I ran after Strowman."

His words made him shudder. And then, Jake swallowed, hard, "...I didn't even tell her I love her."

Raymond could see just how much this last statement made Jake's heart completely snap in two. It wasn't easy being a police officer and living every day in near constant danger while loving someone else so, so much - Holt knew that all too well. Any single day could be the last that one of the Nine-Nine leave their home and say goodbye to their families. Peralta and Holt both knew that.

But if there was one other thing that Holt also knew, it was that he and his sergeant and his detectives couldn't allow themselves to work day in and day while consciously carrying that fear with them. They were all far too good at their jobs for that.

"Well, why would you say something like that?" Raymond asked, finding just the slightest amusement in Jake's confused expression, "Telling someone you love them sounds so final. You knew what you were doing - you knew that wasn't going to be the last time you ever saw her, so you didn't treat it as such."

Jake almost felt the dry skin of his lips crack as they parted and fell into a stunned gape. The sharpest frown shot across his brown orbs as he carefully tried to dissect what his captain had just told him. But to be totally honest, the smug smile sitting on Holt's face was only making the task that much more of a challenge.

Finally, the older man shrugged his shoulders, "I'd hazard to say that your relaxed and casual approach did a phenomenal job of keeping Amy calm, too."

Jake blinked, falling to a deeply quiet hesitation.

Every single event that has taken place between him shooting Clay Strowman in the leg that afternoon, right up until where he sat right now felt like a total blur. He wasn't sure if he could completely recall everything that he did and everything that he said and everything that happened, but Jake certainly felt much more panicked now than how he remembered feeling as he knelt down on the ground by Amy's side.

Maybe he really had managed to keep his cool, and maybe that meant he truly had been there for Amy. But even so - was all that enough to keep her fighting through whatever horrible pain was trying to take her away from him now?

"Captain Holt?"

The sound of the male voice calling Raymond's name made each member of the Nine-Nine turn their heads up to face the door that lead into the hospital ward. Without sparing a single second, they all jumped to their feet and dashed towards the doctor, with Jake just ambling at the back of the pack.

"Doctor Austin," Holt replied, extending his hand for the man to quickly shake as he removed his rubber gloves, "Do you have an update for us?"

"Yeah, how's Amy, is she okay?" Charles hastily interjected.

"Because I swear, if you've messed up her surgery," Rosa threatened with a balled up fist.

"And another thing!" Scully suddenly thundered, taking a moment to pause, "Do you know how to open the vending machine so I can get my candy bar out?"

Doctor Austin was stunned by the out of place question for a second as ran his hand through his dark blonde hair, "Uh, no," he quickly mumbled in reply before directing his attention back to the rest of the team, "And, yes! The surgery was a complete success. Detective Santiago is resting comfortably as we speak and is expected to make a full recovery."

A collective sigh of relief instantly emptied from the lungs of each squad member as they held their hands to their chests and smiled. The atmosphere of the room was consumed by a sense of happiness so harsh that it almost made Jake stumble and fall back into the chair that was placed behind him. He forced down another lump in his throat and resisted the urge to blink away a stray tear. Just as he licked his bottom lip and opened his mouth to finally speak, Peralta was abruptly cut off by Sergeant Jeffords.

"So, what exactly did the surgery involve?" he asked, "One of the officers from my old squad suffered a collapsed lung, too, and all they needed was to stay in the hospital for a few days with a chest tube in place."

"Well, yes, sometimes that is all the treatment that's required," Doctor Austin explained, "But in Amy's case, the area where the leak occurred need to be properly repaired. We used a particular chemical to perform the Pleurodesis and seal the hole in her lung which allowed it to re-inflate. A scar will eventually form where the hole was. She'll be perfectly fine after a day or two here and then some further rest back home. She was very lucky."

For a split second, Jake felt his stomach flip with severe apprehension. The thought of Amy laid out on an operating table and cut open even further than how he had seen her on the floor of Macy's made him feel sick. But still, Jake remained quiet. He didn't know what there was for him to even say - all he did know was that he wanted to silently soak in as much information as the doctor could give him.

He would render himself speechless for the rest of his life just to hear that Amy was okay.

"Can we see her?" Gina dared to ask, breaking the short silence.

"Of course," Doctor Austin answered, frowning for a moment, "Uh, she kept asking to see Peralta?"

Jake's eyes widened, suddenly springing forward to the front of the group and quickly finding his voice.

"That's me!" he exclaimed, excited adrenaline pumping through his veins. The instance of sudden joy faded all too soon, though, as a grimace fell into Jake's face, "Wait, she was asking for _Peralta_ , not _Jake_?" he questioned, gulping to himself, "Uh oh. Did she sound angry? Because if I'm still in trouble, I don't have to be the first one to see her."

"Peralta!" the squad shouted at him in unison.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! I'm so obviously kidding," Jake retorted with a roll of his eyes. He took one step towards the doctor, his heart racing a little faster with each movement he made. But then, right at the very last second, Jake took a subtle peek back over his shoulder.

And as soon as his glance mirrored Captain Holt's, Peralta shot his boss an appreciative smirk.

"Hey, I get to be the next one to see her!" Hitchcock announced all too eagerly, instantly ruining the pleasant moment.

Whipping his neck around to glare at the older man, Jake immediately waved the suggestion off with a couple of firm hand gestures, "No! No, that's a bad Hitchcock!" he sniped, pointing an accusing finger at his colleague, "Nobody let Hitchcock near my unconscious girlfriend!"

Doctor Austin wasn't sure whether to laugh or whether to feel completely creeped out by the disappointment in Hitchcock's face - but even so, he forced an awkward smile and patted Jake on the back, beckoning for him take a first step out of the waiting room and away from his squad.

The two of them passed through the wide double doors that lead into the ward where a number of post-op patients were being held. Doctor Austin cleared his throat, "She's not unconscious," he assured the nervous detective, "But she is incredibly drowsy, and still a little delirious. You'll probably find it best to just let her go back to sleep for a while."

Nodding his head along in silent agreement with everything the doctor was telling him, Jake sensed a tangled frenzy of butterflies begin to whirl in his stomach. It had definitely been comforting to be able to share a few nice, normal moments of typical hilarity with his family from the Nine-Nine, and he had obviously found even greater solace in the fact that Amy was more or less unharmed and okay.

But right in that very moment, a daunting sense of reality was creeping up on Jake and preparing to unceremoniously trip him up. What if Amy really was still mad at him? What if the only reason she wanted to see him was to tell him to leave? What if he wasn't strong enough to see her in such a broken and vulnerable state? There were a thousand other possibilities swarming throughout Jake's mind, but before he had the time to consider any more of them, he and Doctor Austin stopped in front of a tall, pale blue door with a frosted glass window.

Peralta gulped once more. Whatever outcome was waiting for him on the other side, Jake knew one thing for sure. He wasn't going to abandon Amy again.

As Doctor Austin reached for the handle of the door, he looked up to Jake and offered him a gentle smile, "Just press the call button by her bed if you need anything."

Wordlessly, Jake moved his head up and down in another nod.

The noise of the door opening almost made him jump, as bizarre as that sounded. The hospital room was quite dimly lit and very quiet, adding to the jittery ambience. When the door shut behind him, and he finally focused his vision on the centre of the room, Jake felt his heart skip a beat.

Amy was sort of half sitting up against her pillow. Her hair was messily tied in a top knot on her head, she had dark rims sitting in bags under her eyes, there were one or two drip needles that pierced her veins and were connected to the machine by her bed, and her mouth and nose were covered with an oxygen mask to assist with her breathing. The sight of her made Jake cringe just slightly. She still looked as stunning as ever - there was no question about that. Jake only hoped that she wasn't in any pain.

As his eyes shifted slightly to the left and landed on the nurse who was checking a couple of numbers on the monitor, he timidly scuffed one shoe against the other and waited for her to address him. The red headed nurse was young and very pretty, and she looked up at Jake with kind, green eyes as she finished what she was doing and began to make her exit.

She touched the detective gently on the arm, speaking to him in almost a whisper, "Make sure she keeps the mask on, okay?"

Without offering any kind of response, Jake kept his arms nervously folded over his chest and secretly prayed that he could just be left alone with zero interruptions so he could finally spend the time with his girlfriend that he was craving so badly. Well, that is, if she was actually still awake. Jake couldn't quite tell. He dared to take another small step towards her bed. It looked like her eyes might have been closed.

But then, as soon as the door to her room clicked back into place once more, Amy slowly fluttered her beautiful, brown orbs open.

Jake froze. His breath hitched in his throat as he silently watched Amy squint for a couple of long seconds before her vision properly returned to her and she began to glance around the room with more purpose.

The very moment that she spotted her tall, brunette, gorgeous boyfriend standing at the end of her bed and fretfully gripping at the bottom of her sheets, Amy matched his solidified state.

And then, the smallest possible smile popped up in the corner of her lips as she just managed to mumble behind her oxygen mask.

"Hey, stud."

The most incredible feeling of contentment washed over Detective Peralta - even at the struggling sound of Santiago's words - as he smiled right back at his girlfriend.

 _Ha, stud_ , Jake thought to himself. She was definitely delirious.

"Hey," he breathed out in ecstasy, scurrying around the bed to plant himself by her side. Within half a second, Jake had scraped a chair along the tiled floor and placed it beside Amy as closely as he could. He snatched up her hand in his, squeezing tightly and feeling a spark of pure electricity race through him as she squeezed back, "How are you feeling?"

The question had basically left him as a means of simply not knowing what else to say. Amy tried to wriggle uncomfortably where she lay as she took in a deep breath from the mask covering her face.

"Sore," she managed to spit with an exhausted huff. Her voice was so hoarse that the single syllable word almost completely lost on Jake. He watched her chest fight with itself to heave up and down as she swallowed and opened her mouth to speak again.

"Hey, no, it's okay," he stopped her, reaching forward to clutch lovingly at her shoulder, "You don't have to talk, baby, you don't have to say anything. How's about you just go back to sleep, okay? I'll be right here when you wake up," he urged her, pausing, "I promise."

Amy's skin tingled with goosebumps. Her mind may have still been incredibly hazy, and at that exact moment in time, she may have had almost zero recollection about what had happened to her and where she was, but there was _one_ thing that Amy could remember all too clearly.

It wasn't the first time that day that Jake had uttered those two perfect words to her - that he had made a promise to her. And just like earlier that afternoon, as he stared at her with his adoring puppy-dog eyes and brushed his lips against her knuckles, she was powerless to do anything else but believe him.

Without straining herself or trying to say anything further, Amy merely moved her head in a half nod as an intense slumber suddenly crept up on her and dragged her back into her deep dream land.

Jake watched her as she fell asleep, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb and simply staying quiet. His heart felt so full as it raced along at such a pace that it was making his chest ache. But this wasn't an unbearable hurt like the one that had been consuming his mind and his soul all afternoon. This was definitely a very, very _good_ kind of hurt.

He had to consciously stop his vision from darting down to the side of her torso where he knew a long, deep, stitched up scar was now inhabiting her body. He would worry about that later, he told himself, just as he would worry about the other million thoughts still swirling throughout his head, too.

Although, there was one notion sitting on the brink of his brain that Jake decided he would allow to perch there for a little while longer. And that was something that Captain Holt had told him no longer than five or six minutes ago.

He _had_ known exactly what he was doing that afternoon. He knew that he had handled the hostage situation perfectly. He knew that he had made the right choice by successfully collaring Clay and Benny Strowman. He knew that he had done and said all the right things.

And Jake knew that Amy would be okay and would pull through. Just like he knew that right now.

Standing up from his seat, Jake inched closer to Amy and leaned down towards her. Her hair smelled as lush as ever and her skin tasted sweet as he pressed his lips to her forehead and held them there for a few tender moments in a loving kiss.

As he pulled back and pecked at her hairline just once more, Jake brought his voice to a whisper,

"I'll cya' in a sec, babe."

 _-x-_

 **Hey friends! I'm finally back with part two of this story!**

 **It was super fun to explore and write the thousand different emotions Jake went through here. I was a bit worried at first about how something so angsty would allow everyone to properly remain in character, but I think I managed to do a pretty good job in the end! I would love to hear what you all thought as well, especially about Jake and Amy's adorable reunion... :)**

 **There's still one more part left to go, so stay tuned! Please review! I would truly appreciate it.**

 **Till next time guys,**

 **Reneyyyyyyy x**


	3. Part III

_**Breathless.**_

 _Part III_

 _-x-_

Peeking over his shoulder just once more to quell his raging paranoia, Jake felt his heart flutter. He kept one cautious eye glued to Amy's sleeping face as he quietly shuffled his way over to the door of the hospital room. The tiniest possible smirk fell into a crease in the corner of his mouth. She looked so beautiful.

Despite the cords dangling from her veins and the mask that covered her mouth and nose, Amy appeared before him like a something out of dream. Jake had been sitting silently by her bed for what was nearing on two and half hours now, watching her like a hawk and fighting off his own temptations of sleep. He hated to tear himself away from her side, but there were only so many quiet knocks he could allow to echo into the room until either Jake cracked, or Amy woke up.

He was sure that she would be more than okay for a minute or two while he stepped out into the hallway. And besides, the people waiting for him on the other side of the door were the two who deserved an update on Amy's condition more than almost anyone else.

Gently shutting the entrance to the small room behind him, Jake turned to face Gina and Captain Holt as he glanced up at them with a small, reassuring grin.

The rest of the squad had gone home by now. Those who wanted to - all those _except_ Hitchcock - had quickly peered into Amy's room as she slept to see for themselves that she was more or less still in one piece. But now, there was only Raymond and Gina left standing. His colleagues returned Jake's gesture as they offered him a pair of comforting smiles.

"How is she holding up?" Holt asked, "Still stabilised?"

"Yep, no change," Jake responded with a more upbeat tone in his voice, "Pretty sure she's just sleeping off the rest of the anesthesia. She'll wake up soon and start nagging me about how cold the room is like nothing ever happened."

As Holt tried not to encourage Jake too much with his amused expression, Gina merely rolled her eyes in agreement.

The red head was holding a small assortment of Jake's belongings in her hands, as well as the key to his and Amy's apartment. Peralta had asked her to drive around there and collect a clean shirt and a couple of other things for his stay at the hospital that night. He would have gone himself, but Jake had promised Amy that he would be right by her side the very moment she woke up. And it was a promise he intended to keep.

"There ya' go, bud. Everything you need for a sleep over - blanket, tooth brush, phone charger," she rattled off, handing him the neatly stacked pile as she paused with a sly smile, "Oh, and I even threw in one of Amy's dirty little lingerie numbers in case you... ya' know," she added, nudging Jake in the ribs with a shameless wink.

"Ew, Gina, what, no," Jake sniped, shutting her down, "This is a _hospital -_ were you just looking for an excuse to snoop through Amy's stuff?"

"Uh, does the true reason why really matter here? How about a little damn gratitude for my selfless generosity?"

Jake shook his head at his friend's obvious attempt to cover up her wicked intentions before he finally shot her an appreciative grin, "Thank you Gina, you're an angel."

"Mm, well, while I appreciate the holy phrasing of your compliment - because I _am_ a blessing," she spoke with dead seriousness, "Do you have any idea how much dirty laundry I had to sift through to find a single clean shirt? What I have done for you is the devil's work, my friend."

A sharp twinge of guilt shot across Jake's expression as he held the plain, black t-shirt under his nose in the hopes that it didn't smell like the rest of his closet normally did. Right as his nostrils almost thought about scrunching up and recoiling inside of themselves, Captain Holt cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at his detective.

"Will that be all, Peralta?"

Quickly snapping each of his senses out of their stunned daze, Jake tucked his belongings under his arm and frowned for a second, "Did you manage to call Amy's parents yet? Are they gonna' come out here tonight to see her?"

Raymond folded his arms over his chest, "I did, yes, though, her father suspected something had happened based on the loose details reported on the local news this evening," he explained, "I could hear her mother speaking in some rather loud Spanish in the background. From what I could translate, it sounded like she was quite eager for them to come in tonight and check on Amy for themselves. But they're not going to."

Jake paused, raising a surprised eyebrow, "They're not? How come?"

"They're not wanting to disturb her while she should be resting. I suggested that perhaps she'll be better prepared for visitors in the morning once she's managed to make an initial recovery."

Trying his best to hide the slight sense of selfish reprieve that filled him, Jake soon found his forehead creasing into a frown again as Raymond seemed to purposely shoot a secretive grin his way. After what felt like a torturous amount of hesitation, Captain Holt shrugged his shoulders.

"He also _may_ have said something about how there's no need to worry about her because they know they're leaving their daughter in good hands."

Jake instantly froze in his place, his chest swelling with an unexpected feeling of pride.

The reaction from Amy's mother wasn't particularly surprising - Mrs. Santiago loved Jake simply because Amy loved Jake, he had always known that. Her father, though, had definitely been a little harder to crack, no thanks to the disastrous binder incident from last Thanksgiving. But for Jake to hear that the ever uncertain Mr. Santiago actually trusted him to properly look after and protect his only daughter?

A beaming shade of red glowed in Jake's cheeks. But ultimately, he didn't allow himself to become hung up on the moment for too long.

Glancing down at the ground, Peralta focused on his feet for a second before looking back up to Raymond and Gina, "Well, the next time I screw up and do something that pisses him off, I'll be sure to remind him of that."

The dryness of his joke made Gina chuckle under her breath, while Raymond simply blinked, paying no attention to Jake's further sarcasm, "Are you sure you don't need us to stay?" he asked.

Jake shook his head, "Nah, we'll be fine for the rest of the night. I'll call the precinct tomorrow to let you know how she's doing."

At his near-mention of her name, Jake almost wanted to glance back through the glass window to make sure Amy was still okay and still asleep. His crazy array of up and down emotions had certainly sent him on one intense roller coaster ride over the past few hours. Jake honestly wasn't sure if he would have been able to keep his head totally together and his spirits completely in tact if it hadn't been for the rest of the Nine-Nine.

Running an awkward hand through his brown hair, Peralta quietly cleared his throat, finally dropping his cynical smirk, "Seriously though, uh," he stuttered, "Thanks guys, for... ya' know, for sticking around for so long."

Trailing off for an indecisive moment, Jake looked back up and dared to lock his vision with Raymond's. Peralta may have been one of the most stubborn people to ever walk the face of the Earth - but he was man enough to admit that Holt had done so much more for him that evening other than just _physically_ sticking around.

And so with that, Jake smiled, "And, just, for everything."

Holt remained motionless for a second or two, but eventually responded with a single nod of his head. There was nothing more Jake needed to say to him.

"Well, I suppose we'll leave you to it," Raymond said, projecting his hand forward for Jake to shake, "Good night, Peralta."

Jake met the captain's gesture, firmly shaking back, "Good night, sir."

At the very last second before they turned to leave him, Gina reached out and gave her oldest friend's arm a gentle squeeze, "Just call if you need anything else."

"I will," Jake promised with a grateful grin. He adjusted the pile of his random bits and bobs he was holding onto. Gina had already done more than enough for him that evening.

"But only before midnight!" she suddenly called back to him, almost reading Jake's thoughts, "Momma needs her beauty sleep, and as soon as the clock hits twelve, my phone is going on mute!"

Jake couldn't help but chuckle to himself again. That had _almost_ been a one hundred per cent, genuine moment of pure friendship. But as Holt shook his head and he and Gina finally made their exit, Peralta simply smiled again. The Nine-Nine had never really been a group to show their love and endearment for one another through general affection and niceties.

Well, everyone except for Jake and Amy, of course.

As this subtle thought of her suddenly danced across his mind, Jake felt a shiver of anticipation race up his spine. His time spent in the hallway with Gina and Raymond had distracted him so badly that he almost completely forgot why he was standing in the hospital corridor in the first place.

Twirling around on the spot, Jake tried to balance the pile of his 'sleepover' supplies in his arms as he pulled down on the door handle to Amy's room. His mouth broke out into a gentle smirk at the mere sight of her.

She hadn't moved an inch in the time that Jake had been gone. She didn't look entirely comfortable, but for someone whose body had been working over time just to keep itself breathing normally, Amy was probably capable of having a good night's sleep on Jake's old dumpster mattress by this point.

Jake kept his concerned, brown eyes on her for only a second longer before he finally allowed himself to fish through his stuff for his phone charger. Taking his seat again, Jake lazily pulled Amy's favourite blanket from home over his lap and plopped the rest of his belongings at the end of her hospital bed.

The screen of his phone lit up and began the steady climb back up from zero per cent battery as Jake plugged the charger into the power socket against the wall. Thank God there had actually been a free space available for him, he thought to himself. Knowing Peralta's luck, he would have only ended up unplugging the wrong thing and shutting down Amy's respirator - or more likely - the power for the entire hospital.

Jake's eyes scanned over the four or five concerned text messages that were waiting for him in his mail box. The first one he read was from Charles - the infamous worry wart already checking in on he and Amy. Jake teasingly rolled his eyes at his best friend as he ran his thumbs across the keypad in a quick response to Detective Boyle.

He clicked out of the message and went back to his inbox, hovering over the rest of his texts. He really needed to get back to his mother, he suddenly thought, wanting to kick himself for keeping her waiting for so long. But before Jake could even click into the chain he shared with Karen, he instead found himself freezing in a stunned standstill.

The past number of hours had stretched on for such an eternity that each event leading up to the hold up that day seemed like a total blur. It felt like a lifetime ago. And as Jake's vision zeroed in on a message about a quarter of the way down his screen, his heart skipped a beat at the last words Amy had texted to him that morning.

Jake hesitated, quickly looking back up to Amy where she lay in front of him. With a slight gulp, the detective clicked into the message that was labelled 'Ames' and was accompanied by a couple of perfectly descriptive emojis - the female police officer, and the silly little cat with goofy heart eyes. He could barely even remember what his girlfriend had needed him for that Saturday morning, but it all soon came rushing back to him as Jake felt goosebumps pop up over his skin.

 _'Do we need any honey?'_

While Peralta had been lounging around and tightly cocooned between his sheets in bed on what originally started as their day off, Santiago had decided to take a much more productive approach to the morning. She had gone down to the store, like she did most Saturdays, to run a couple of errands and do her and Jake's grocery shopping for the week. Peralta smirked to himself.

' _We sure do, honey._ '

Smooth, Jake thought to himself. Exceptionally smooth.

' _You're such a dork._ '

' _Love you too._ '

Jake's response to her made him sigh wistfully. The goosebumps on his arms intensified at the two red, love hearts Amy had texted back to him. But the sweet moment hadn't lasted long.

' _Still a dork._ '

Jake chuckled to himself as quietly as he could. Their whole text chain was nothing but classic Peralta-Santiago flirtatious banter. Never in his life had Jake met another person that he could tease so hard but love so hard at the exact same time. Amy was one in seven billion.

But then, of course, Amy and Jake also happened to be experts at _arguing_ hard, as well.

Shortly after their adorably cheesy texting conversation, Amy had returned home, Jake had surprised her with their tickets to the Shakespeare show, and then the two had erupted into a vicious dispute for the rest of the afternoon. It made Jake's heart sting. He hated knowing that it wasn't long after their stupid fight started that they had been called out to the Macy's job, and then the two of them had _still_ been tangled in the immaturity of it all as Amy went down injured.

Jake knew that he was partially to blame. While he accepted now that everything from that day may not have entirely been his fault, he _knew_ that there were still some things that he had screwed up, _so_ badly.

Jake only hoped that Amy wasn't going to be upset with him. And that he hadn't hurt her feelings too horribly.

"...Jake?"

The sound of his name almost made him leap right out of his skin. The voice was hoarse and raspy and timid, but Jake instantly recognised it all the same.

Snapping his neck up so quickly that he was shocked it didn't break, Jake's heart raced and his brown orbs widened as they mirrored Amy's that stared back at him in a squint.

"Ames," he mumbled.

The detective had never locked his phone and discarded it from his lap so fast in his life as he scraped his chair closer to his girlfriend's bed and gently took her hand again.

Jake nervously licked his bottom lip, not too certain of what to say to her. Her hand was surprisingly warm. He almost wanted to tell her that, as dumb as it sounded - although, nothing could be more stupid than what he had said the first time she woke up when he asked her how she was feeling.

But still, Jake couldn't just ignore his obvious concerns. Hesitating his words for a moment longer, Peralta began to trace circles on the back of Amy's hand with his thumb, "Are you feeling okay?"

His question was so gentle and quiet that Amy wasn't sure if she had even heard him. She swallowed, soon discovering just how dry her throat was. As she took a long, deep breath from the oxygen mask covering her mouth, she finally opened her eyes properly and tried to smile at her boyfriend.

"I'm cold," she muttered through a shiver.

Jake immediately screeched into speechlessness. He _did_ know her.

" _Therrrrre_ it is."

Standing from his seat, Jake gathered up Amy's blanket from his lap and carefully draped it over her body, tucking it in around the others that were already covering her. He lingered in his place for a moment longer, smiling down at her and reaching to brush the few stray strands of hair out of her eyes. Jake's skin instantly tingled as Amy brought her hand up to meet his.

Their fingers were loosely locked together as Jake held her gaze for just another second before he went to pull away and take his place in the chair beside her. But as her grip on him suddenly tightened, Jake swung back around to find that, for whatever reason, Amy wasn't letting go.

A confused frown fell into his brow. Jake tried to force down the instance of sharp anxiety that pinched at his core as he parted his lips to speak. Before he could, though, Amy attempted to clear her throat and silently pointed to one of the other cords hanging from her respirator. His forehead remained furrowed as Jake followed her gesture and carefully pulled up the clear cord she was singling out. As soon as he spotted the small nose plug fastened to the end of it, the detective's eyes widened.

Glancing back across to her, Jake's shoulders slouched as he hesitated again, "Amy, I dunno', the nurse said it would be best if you keep the mask on."

His sentence had barely even escaped his lips before Amy shook her head. Typical Santiago. If Jake truly did happen to be the most stubborn man on the planet, then Amy certainly was a good match for him. It would have been awfully hypocritical of him to deny his girlfriend her request.

Trying to remain firm for as long as he could, Jake soon gave in as his chest heaved in a sigh, "Fine, but if you're finding it hard to breathe, you're putting the mask back on, got it?"

Amy nodded just once and leaned forward slightly, carefully pulling the elastic of the oxygen mask and lifting it over her head. Jake was there instantaneously, replacing the mask with the more comfortable tube as he tucked it behind her ears. The tips of his fingers skimmed her cheeks, causing her face to heat up in a blush as the plugs on the end of the cord finally took their place just inside of her nose.

Amy took a deep breath, and Jake nervously held his own.

"Is that okay?" he asked in a whisper.

For the first few times that she breathed in, Amy wasn't sure if she was going to be able to answer him or not. But, soon enough, as she sensed her lungs fall back into some kind of automated rhythm, the detective lay back into her pillow.

"Yeah," she managed to speak a little more easily, "Yeah, I'm okay."

Jake felt a sensation of long awaited calmness sweep over him as he released a subtle sigh of relief. He hung the oxygen mask back onto the respirator, making sure to keep it within arm's reach.

Peralta swallowed, his thoughts humming quietly throughout his brain. It didn't sound like it was paining Amy to talk to him like it might have been before, but still, his girlfriend's voice was incredible husky. The silence began to settle in around them for perhaps a second too long as Jake licked his bottom lip. But, again, Amy beat him to the punch.

"What happened?"

Instantly, Jake's eyes narrowed, his heart skipping a terrified beat, "You don't remember?"

The shaken tone in his voice tweaked at Amy's worst fears as she slowly shook her head, "Not everything."

Jake's jaw hung open in a gape, and his whole body ached with uncertainty. The helpless detective felt like he had more questions of his own rather than any answers for Amy. Which hurdles from that afternoon were missing from her memory? Did she remember the job they were on? Or exactly what Clay Strowman did to her?

Or that she and Jake had been arguing so heatedly all day long?

"Well..." Jake began, trying to keep his last thought from drowning him in guilt, "You remember we were going after the Strowman cousins to shut down their latest jewelry heist, right?"

Amy swallowed as a crease fell into her brow, "Yeah..." she murmured, "Yeah, they had me hostage, they were holding me... at..."

A number of new thoughts and memories suddenly began to appear to Amy as her sentence trailed off and she gasped, "Oh God, did I get shot?"

"No! No, no, nobody shot you," Jake instantly assured her, chuckling awkwardly with a sense of relief, "But, Clay, uh... Clay stabbed you. He stabbed you in your right side. The knife punctured your lung and it collapsed."

His explanation left his lips slowly with an infinite amount of trepidation. Amy had never been seriously injured in the field before, not ever. Jake didn't want to stupidly say the wrong thing and send her spiraling into a post-traumatic panic.

As the carefully delivered information began to sink into the back of her mind, Jake could almost see the cogs turning in Amy's brain. He impulsively found himself holding his breath all over again, ironically waiting on a knife's edge to hear how she was going to react.

After a long, dreaded second or two, Amy stared at Jake, her eyes filled with determination, "Did you get him?"

A love struck grin immediately flew across Jake's lips. Of course, he thought to himself - _of course_ Amy's first concern wouldn't be what the doctors had done to her or if she had made a full recovery. All she cared about was whether or not the bad guy got away.

Jake's skin was prickled with goosebumps as he laughed gently and held his smile on her, "Yeah, babe, I got him."

Within a second, Amy's expression was perfectly reflecting Jake's. She wasn't surprised, not in the slightest. There was no single cop in the whole of New York more skillful and daring than Detective Peralta. She matched his adorable laughter for a split second, until the motion caused an aching pain to shoot down the side of her body.

Amy shuddered, immediately taking her hand to grasp at her torso where the twinge of hurt had rumbled under her skin. Jake leaned forward in his chair, taking his hand to meet her's again to make sure she wasn't gripping too viciously at the stitches holding her scar together.

"Whoa, whoa, it's okay," he spoke calmly, "You gotta' be careful, Ames, you had surgery."

"Surgery?" she repeated, "Like, they put me out and opened me up?"

"Well, I never was a star student in English class, but I'm pretty sure that's the definition of 'surgery'," he teased her.

"What did they do?"

"The doctor did explain it me," he began, "They used, like, some kind of chemical to patch up the hole in your lung and make it re-inflate. The whole procedure had this fancy name that I can't pronounce - "

"Pleurodesis?"

As soon as she cut him off with her ever so familiar, know-it-all, Santiago tone, Jake drove himself to a sharp silence and frowned at her, "Okay, fine, everyone's a smarty pants except for me, I get it already."

Forcing some more laughter out of herself at his irresistibly cute embarrassment, Amy shook her shoulders a little too heavily as her chuckles turned into a couple of nasty coughs. Springing to his feet, Jake grasped softly at her shoulder and used his opposite hand to rub comforting circles on her back until the harsh fit from her lungs subsided.

"Hey, come on, it's okay, you're okay," he shushed her, "Just take it easy, baby."

Doing as he told her, Amy took a deep breath from the plug sitting in her nose and tried her best to relax her heaving chest. The task felt almost impossible, until the sensation of Jake's hand tightening so lovingly around her collar bone seemed to automatically cause all of her discomforts to simply melt away.

She gazed up at him, finally feeling her lungs relax inside of her rib cage. For a moment, all she could do was stare into him, matching the imploring expression he was firing her way. It was crazy how many different emotions Jake could force Amy to feel. He could make her laugh so much sometimes that she thought she would absolutely explode. Other times she wanted nothing more than to furiously whip out her baton and smack him over the head with it.

But, more often than not, what Amy felt for Jake above all else was just how much he made her love him.

Swallowing back a lump of nervous anticipation she could taste in her throat, Amy shifted slightly where she sat. She kept her eyes carefully glued to Jake's as another memory from that afternoon suddenly returned to her.

"You shot him, didn't you? Strowman. In the leg."

The blatantly unexpected nature of her question surprised Jake for a moment as he kept his lips sealed. He couldn't remember another time where he wanted to release fire on a perp so, _so_ badly in his entire career.

"As soon as I had the chance," he answered dryly, shrugging his shoulders as he sat back down in the chair beside her bed.

Amy felt a shiver race through her at the dull tone in Jake's voice. Each of her blurred memories from the hold up were slowly beginning to paint themselves across her mind. She recalled the surreal feeling of denial that consumed her as the metal barrel of the gun pressed into her skull, and the shuddering breeze that crossed her as Strowman loosened her protective vest, untucked her from her pant suit and ripped open the top few buttons of her blouse.

But more than anything else, Amy remembered the red, hot anger that had swelled up in Jake's face and the fire that had burned behind his brown eyes. She had never seen him so filled with such a vicious, determined rage before - not ever.

"For a second I thought maybe you were going to aim somewhere else..."

The haunting whisper that accompanied her words echoed in Jake's core. He paused, trying to shake the morbid vibe creeping throughout their conversation as he smirked at her.

"Are you suggesting I would do something as un-American as shoot another man in the dick because he came onto you sexually?"

A spark of surprised amusement glistened in Amy's eyes as she shook her head at her goof of a boyfriend, "No," she croaked with some struggling giggles, "No, that's not what I meant. I was talking about something... ya' know... a little more fatal than that..."

Jake immediately snapped his eyes down to face the floor. He didn't like thinking about the criminals who had lost their lives from crashing their cars while he tailed them in a high speed pursuit, or from throwing themselves into his line of fire. It was a total outer body experience for him each and every time he had a hand in someone else's death. And that was exactly how Peralta felt earlier that afternoon when he had been frozen in place with his gun locked firmly onto Clay Strowman.

Perhaps it was possible that maybe - just _maybe_ \- Jake thought for a second that he was going to shoot to kill, as well.

"Yeah, well maybe I would have if I had known he was carrying that knife on him, too..."

The last word crept off the end of his tongue just as Jake glanced back up to face his girlfriend. He never wanted to experience the unimaginable fear of almost losing her again. Never again. Especially not when all it would have left with was a tremendous guilt for being such an inconsiderate jerk.

"Ames, I'm sorry."

Amy's heart fluttered at his admission. She hadn't exactly been expecting him to say anything considering how much he normally _hated_ talking about his feelings. The peculiar surprise left her reeling in silence, totally uncertain of how to respond to him.

"Jake - "

His name left her lips with a sigh, but before she was able to say anything more, her awkward stammering was suddenly cut off by a quiet knock at the door.

Jumping in his seat as he turned to face the entrance to the room, Jake's expression remained blank with his slim frustrations at being so rudely interrupted. Eventually, Peralta forced his teeth into a smile at Doctor Austin as he greeted the two detectives with a friendly grin.

"Detective, you're awake," he exclaimed pleasantly, "How are you feeling?"

Jake looked back to Amy as he gestured towards the doctor, clearing his throat and setting his emotions back on track before he spoke, "This is Doctor Austin. He performed your surgery."

"Oh, hi," Amy offered softly, "And thank you. I'm feeling okay - I mean, I think I'm feeling okay."

Doctor Austin chuckled to himself, "No need to worry. You haven't shown any adverse effects from the surgery so far. I actually just wanted to check in and make sure you were still recovering well and weren't experiencing any complications," he went on, turning up the lights to brighten the room a little more, "Is now a good time?"

As the very tip of a potential spiral dared to drag Amy down at the mention of any medical lingo, she almost croaked out an immediate answer before forcing herself to silence. Turning just slightly to subtly glance over at Jake, she met her boyfriend's gaze.

Amy knew that Jake had been on the verge of completely spilling over with whatever frantic feelings must have been messing with his head all afternoon. The last thing she wanted was to cut him off when he might not have the guts to follow through with whatever it was he wanted to say.

But still, as she continued to implore him with her wide, brown eyes, Jake simply brushed off the thought. In that moment, Peralta was much more concerned with the last few daunting words that Doctor Austin had so casually spoken.

"What kind of complications?" he asked with a frown.

"Nothing to panic about," he assured them both, taking a step closer to Amy's bed, "We just need to make sure there's no inflammation or swelling or infection surrounding Amy's lung - anything that might cause it to collapse again."

Amy was still feeling sore and a little tender as the doctor carefully adjusted her hospital gown. She winced and recoiled the more he poked and prodded at the area between her ribs while he searched her skin for any swelling.

" _And_ I've already made sure that Detective Peralta understands the importance of you kicking that sneaky little smoking habit of yours, alright?"

A deep, embarrassed blush instantly fell into Amy's cheeks. She shot a glare over towards Jake where he sat with the same big, goofy smile plastered across his face, "She hates admitting that to people."

The words left him with a teasing twinkle in his chocolate coloured eyes. As much as she wanted to scrunch up her face and absolutely glower at him, Amy couldn't resist a tiny wriggle of her lip in the very corner of her mouth. She knew Jake was bound to use every tormenting tactic in his arsenal to annoy her into quitting for good. But she also knew he only did it because of how much he cared.

As this thought lingered in the back of her mind, Amy blinked her eyes away from Jake before sneakily placing them back on him in a hidden glance. Immediately, she felt her heart skip yet another beat in her over-worked chest.

In that moment, as the doctor continued to carefully examine her injuries, Jake didn't really looked like Jake. He looked like a cop - like Detective Peralta. He had swapped his playful smirk for his stern, unmoving, protective police expression. And it made Amy feel like the most cherished piece of treasure in the whole world.

She almost jolted in surprise when Doctor Austin's voice snapped her out of her hypnotic trance.

"Well, Amy, you look to be recovering perfectly," he spoke with confidence. He took a moment to quickly look down at his watch, finding that it was almost nine in the evening, "Unless either of you need anything else, I'll leave you until the morning so you can get some more rest."

Amy swallowed a lump of relief, still feeling it sting just slightly in the back of her throat as she forced an appreciative smile through the dull pain, "I think we'll be okay till then."

Jake relaxed his appearance and mimicked that of his girlfriend's as his heart began to settle again, "Thanks, Doc. For looking after her."

The layers of genuine emotion sitting between Jake's last four, tiny words made a shiver race up Amy's spine. She continued to watch him closely as he shook the doctor's hand, taking notice of how his strong grip seemed to linger for a second or two.

"You're more than welcome," Doctor Austin concluded, flicking his eyes back over to Amy as he nodded at the pair of them, "Detective Santiago, Peralta."

The very moment that he vanished, a fresh wave of awkwardness seemed to wash over the tiny hospital room and swallow up Doctor Austin's comforting presence in one harsh gulp.

Peralta softly clicked the door back into place, leaning his forehead up against it as he released another sigh. Santiago simply sat in the ever-growing silence, her mind still whirling with thoughts of Jake, waiting to see if her partner would add anything more to his abrupt apology.

She wasn't at all thrown when he chose to stay quiet. And so, doing what she always did best, Amy took the lead and nervously cleared her throat.

"You don't have to be sorry about anything."

Each of the muscles in his shoulders seemed to tense up at Amy's sudden words. He glanced down at his feet, timidly nudging the toe of one shoe into the door before Jake finally decided to turn around.

"Not even for letting the bad guy stab you?"

The unwelcomed joke that he let slip from between his lips as a weak cop-out instantly made Amy frown at him.

"That's not your fault," she tried to scold him with another croak in her voice, "You can't seriously think that."

Recoiling within himself at her reprimanding tone, Jake was silent for a second longer before he simply shrugged his shoulders. He took a step forward, turning the lights down again and eventually finding his way back to his seat, "I sorta' did at first, if I'm being honest," he admitted, "But then Holt went all police captain Yoda on me and snapped me out of it."

Amy shifted with a slight cringe. She supposed she was thankful that Jake had someone to talk through all his muddled up thoughts and feelings with while she had been in surgery. But none of that was exactly opening up any further conversation that still obviously needed to be had between Jake and _her_.

"Oh. Okay," she began with a mumble, "Well, its good to hear you talked it through with _someone,_ I guess."

As the very last syllable reluctantly fell from Amy's lips, the whole top half of Jake's body slouched downwards. He immediately recognised the disappointment in the words from his girlfriend as the same sensation - the same _disappointment_ settled within himself.

Jake may have been a little clueless sometimes when it came to his bahaviour in his relationship, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew that all of his and Amy's problems and fights and little snipes at each other from that day had stemmed from a total lack of communication.

He also knew that he even dared utter a single stupid word like _noice_ or _smort_ , Amy would rip her IV cord out of her arm and strangle him with it.

After all she had been through, Amy deserved to hear much more than that.

"Okay, look," Jake huffed out. He slumped back into his chair, running a nervous hand down his face as he tried to gather his thoughts, "I was kinda' just feeling super, duper guilty because, like... you and me had been fighting all day, and after everything happened, all I wanted was to stay with you and come in the ambulance with you, but I pretty much just left you there to go after Strowman instead and..."

Peralta had to stop to take a breath before he felt like his own lungs were going to collapse. As he cut himself off and sensed the weight of everything he had just spoken tumble down onto his shoulders, Jake swallowed back a watery lump in his throat.

"And all I could think to myself was what if that was the last time I ever saw you."

Amy could almost swear that she felt a sharp pain shoot up her side where her stitches were keeping her stab wound secured. It broke her heart to hear her boyfriend recount the worst of his terrifying thoughts. The shaky sob she could tell was wobbling its way halfway up his throat quickly made her force down one of her own.

Turning away from his adorably sombre expression to subtly flick away a single tear from her eyes, Amy tried to clear her throat again, "You can't get rid of me that easily, Peralta."

She was relieved when she heard a quiet chuckle rumble from his stomach. It felt weird for Amy to be the one to break the awkward silences with lame jokes. As she repeated Jake's last sentence over in her head just once more, Amy took in a long breath of the revitalising oxygen in her nose and absolutely fastened her eyes to his.

"You're never going to lose me. I'm not going anywhere."

Jake couldn't say anything. His lips only quivered into a smile as Amy returned the sentiment and smiled back.

"And I know you're not going anywhere, either," she whispered into the quiet room, "You were amazing today. You stayed with me and looked after me until there was someone else there to help, you waited here for God knows how long for me to wake up - Jake, you haven't left my side all day, and you _still_ managed to catch the bad guy, too."

Still far too filled with emotion to speak, Jake simply reached forward and caught Amy's hand in his again. She squeezed tightly before he could offer the loving gesture first.

"I don't want you to feel guilty, about anything. You didn't abandon me," she promised him, "You're the best cop in the whole, wide world, and you saved me today."

Jake could hear in Amy's voice that she was becoming a little more hoarse with each sound she made. He may have normally been one to never - under any circumstances - reject the opportunity to be told how incredible he was, but these were some particularly unique circumstances.

Amy was far more incredible than he was, anyway.

His eyes glistened with irresistible cheek as Jake shot Amy a teasing grin, "Can you do me a favour and make sure you tell your dad and your brothers that when we visit them next weekend?"

The warmth in his words poured into Amy's soul and filled her as she narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend. Each and every thought about Jake being inconsiderate that had ever crossed her instantly faded as he waved his metaphorical white flag and went back on the ferocious argument he had been making all day long. She couldn't believe how sweet he was. But then, Amy merely shook her head.

"We're not going to my mom's next weekend."

Jake's expression fell flat, "What?"

The detective remained nervously platonic in his response and body language as he tried to figure out what exactly Amy was telling him. Was this some kind of trap, or one of those crazy boyfriend tests to see what his reaction would be? Amy giggled at the confusion in his innocent face.

"I want to go to Shakespeare in the Park with you."

"But," he stuttered, "But what about your mom's birthday?"

"Jake, my mom's sixty-five next year, that's a much more important birthday," she explained, lacing her hand together even tighter with his, "I just want to spend all my time with you."

Her voice was on the verge of completely vanishing by this point, but still, Santiago felt the need to strain herself just that little bit further as her brow knitted into a frown. Amy knew that she was just as much to blame for their ridiculous argument that day as Jake was.

"I'm sorry, too."

Her words entered the room in a choked up whisper, but Jake had heard Amy loud and clear. He shuffled closer to her again with a dismissive shake of his head, taking his opposite hand to her knee and promising himself that he was never going to fight with her about something so stupid ever, _ever_ again.

He hoped that she still had just a few painless words left in her. Thankfully for Jake, the risk of him sounding too final was long gone by now.

"I love you. So much."

Amy's body shivered from head to toe. For the first time that entire evening, she felt like she could truly breathe again.

"I love you so much, too."

As Jake's heart raced like a rocket inside of his chest, he couldn't handle the distance sitting between them for a second longer. Moving his hands away from her limp extremities, Peralta stood from his seat and gently cupped either side of her face. He lovingly stroked her left cheek with his thumb as he slowly leaned in towards her. Her lips met his in under a second as Amy and Jake caught each other in the most tender exchange and swapped the equivalent of a million devoted kisses with a single connection.

The cherry red colour of her lips washed away any dreaded memories of Amy's blood that had stained his hands and his clothes as Jake pressed himself more into her, desperate for the amazing taste that he had feared he would never experience again. For a moment, as Amy took her hand to the back of Jake's neck and scratched lightly at his skin, she almost managed to convince herself that his intoxicating scents had healing powers far superior to those of the pure oxygen pumping into her injured lungs.

But, soon enough, the cliche, fairy tale fog clouding her better judgment quickly faded and Amy found herself slowing in the blissful exchange. As Jake lapped at her just one time too many, Amy's breath began to shorten.

"Jake," she murmured with an awkward chuckle between kisses, "Jake, I need to breathe."

Snapping out of the infatuated spell she had cast on him, Jake's eyes shot wide open. He quickly backed away from her, albeit reluctantly, giving Amy some space again.

"Sorry," he said, laughing right back at her, "By the way, you know you have, like, four blankets, right? How the heck do you still feel so cold?"

Turning her nose up at him and his sarcasm, Amy eyed the small pile of his things sitting at the end of the bed, "You're telling me you seriously didn't know to bring at least three extra?"

As she reached forward to search her boyfriend's belongings for some additional warmth, Jake suddenly felt an ironic shiver cross him as he froze.

"Wait, wait, Ames - "

Before his flustered words could even form a coherent thought, Jake felt the colour in his face drain to a pale shade of white. As Amy sat in her place, curiously holding onto the pair of her tiny, black, lace panties that she had fished out from between Jake's clothing, she turned back to her boyfriend, completely unimpressed.

"Uh," she mumbled, "I don't know what you thought was going to happen tonight, but this is _not_ appropriate hospital attire."

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Jake hastily exclaimed, snatching the underwear from her and collapsing back into his chair, "Not my idea - I sent Gina over to the apartment to grab some stuff for me, and I _did_ tell her to only bring the necessities."

Pausing for a short second, Jake tried to resist the devil sitting on his shoulder before he raised a hopeful eyebrow.

"Although, seeing as we seem to be out of blankets, it _could_ be a rather energetic way of warming you up?"

With a simple roll of her eyes, Amy snorted under her breath and carefully shuffled to one side of the hospital bed. She cringed at the slight pain that shot up her waistline, but as soon as it settled, the detective gingerly lifted up one corner of the blanket and looked back to her boyfriend.

Jake's eyes lit up like a Boyle cousin at Mervyn's, "Oh my God, did that work?"

"No," Amy spat, immediately shutting him down. After another two seconds of glaring at him, Santiago batted her eyelashes towards Peralta and softly bit down on her bottom lip, "But you could climb in here fully clothed and give me a hug?"

With his initial disappointment evaporating in less than a second, Jake didn't even need to hesitate his response as he smiled in silence and kicked off his canvas shoes.

As he gently rose from his seat and his torso towered over the edge of the bed, Amy glanced up at him, sensing a second, sharp coldness cross her. A fresh set of chilled goosebumps tingled across her skin in anticipation as Jake pulled the covers back and Amy felt the mattress shift with his weight.

Peralta may not have been a total beef head with muscle built upon muscle like Sergeant Jeffords, but he was _certainly_ a lot more cuddly. As he made himself comfortable and draped a loving arm around Amy's shoulders, she immediately buried herself into her boyfriend's side and nuzzled against the softness of his chest.

"Is it really bad that I kinda' just want to go back to sleep?"

Jake couldn't resist.

"Title of your sex tape."

Instantly regretting his daring new addition to the never ending joke, Jake recoiled with a hiss as Amy dug a knuckle into his ribs in a sharp jab.

"Ow!" Jake exclaimed with a surprised chuckle, "Well, I guess it's clear the surgery had zero effect on your strength..."

As she feigned a smug grin at the sound of his defeated whining, Amy remained quiet and simply crept closer towards Jake. She reached her arm all the way across him in a tight, protective hug and eventually allowed her eyes to rest shut again.

Peralta glimpsed down, beaming at his girlfriend as he did. He was sat upright in narrow hospital bed, leaning against the wall behind him and holding Amy close where she was crammed in by his side. She was lying down further than he was, with her head resting comfortably on his stomach.

And still, Jake continued to stare at her.

He considered the last statement he had just made - about her strength. It was all Jake was able to think about. How strong Amy had been all day, how strong she had _always_ been. And not only strong in the sense that she had fought through her devastating injuries and recovered from her surgery like an iron woman, but strong in the way that she hadn't allowed her mentality to crumble at each of the sinister threats that the Strowman cousins had placed upon her - not for a second.

She had been _so_ brave. Amy had kept her cool. And she had kept Jake's cool for him, too.

Hugging her against him as closely as he could without disrupting her stitches or her oxygen, Jake leaned down and lovingly kissed Amy on her hairline.

"You saved me too today, by the way. Ya' know, by stopping me from doing anything stupid."

His words left him in the most tender whisper, and yet, they echoed with such a loud sweetness in Amy's core.

She gently caressed his stomach through his shirt, reaching for his hand to bring it to her lips and return the chasteness of his kiss.

Jake's cheeks glowed in a warm blush, his thumb trailing around the soft edge Amy's lips as they left his skin.

The next time they ever argued with each other, about anything, Peralta swore to himself that there would be no sniping, no name-calling, and _zero_ chance of making himself feel guilty.

Next time - the only thing Jake planned on doing was simply swallowing his pride and saying sorry. Some things in life were just far more important.

"I'm never going to let anyone hurt you ever again."

And as she finally expelled an exhausted yawn into the darkening room, Amy smiled.

"I know."

 _-x-_

 **Hello all you little Peraltiagos! This story is finally complete!**

 **I hope you all enjoyed the journey I took you on here, and of course were satisfied with the adorable ending :)**

 **I'm really, really enjoying writing for this fandom at the moment, and with season five just around the corner, I'm sure I'll be coming up with a whole lot more cute little Jamy story ideas in the very near future..**

 **If you enjoyed, please keep an eye on my profile for new stories! And please leave a review to let me know what you thought! I would really appreciate it :)**

 **Thanks again for reading!**

 **Till next time guys,**

 **Reneyyyyyyyy x**


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